The Sun Sets in the West
by Modern Artifact
Summary: The elves call her Nwalmaer (the tormented one). To Rohan, she was the dark elf witch of the Balchoth, slayer of Eorl the Young, their first king. Freed from Sauron's grasp, Vezely returns West to redeem the light she lost and to help fight for Middle Earth, but she is not a willing participant in either (Easterlings, Variags, Rhun). Legolas X OC (Legomance)
1. The Past Remembered

**_A/N: Hello! Very long time since my last story. I hope readers will enjoy this one's journey just as much._**

**_The avatar for this story was created by the wonderful artist, lika-143. Please check out more of her art on Deviant Art and on the Tumblr for this story, vezely . tumblr . com, where I post extra media and hope to interact with readers a bit more than is allowed on this site. If you add me, I will add you back!  
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**_Disclaimer: I of course do not own Tolkien's creation(s), only my OCs and some creative extension into the realms Tolkien left blank (i.e. Rhun)._**

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**Chapter 1 - The Past Remembered**

Under the layer of dirt and dust accumulated from riding, the tall, svelte woman appeared distinctively Easterling in fashion due to her draped short trousers, the cut of her tunic, and head covering. The fabric of her pants was a dark burgundy colored silk, so matching that of the Easterling militia that it apparently came from their supplies. On top of it she wore a fitted, navy blue, knee-length jacket that bore light blue stitching on the lapels and the ends of the bell-cuff sleeves, forming an intricate arabesque design. On her head, a black silk headscarf was wrapped. It had previously shielded her face, but was pulled down under her chin, allowing her to breathe in the cool air. Golden threads were sewn into small geometric shapes bordering the bottom edges of the scarf - old runes of the Easterling writing system containing phrases of courage and honor. On her feet she wore knee-high black leather boots whose soles were sullied with dirt, having walked many roads prior. They were adorned with a pair sais, one clasped to each of their outsides, while attached to her side was a sheathed scimitar - a long thin blade that was slightly curved. Its bronze handle could accommodate two hands comfortably.

Behind her an elegant black horse stood calmly as they waited on the edge of the ancient forest. She could sense their presence before they emerged though she was unsure at first, for Fangorn exuded an unsettling, haunted essence unlike anything she had felt before. Mithrandir's instructions were to wait there three days hence, where she would join him and his fellow travelers to Edoras, the king's seat of Rohan - old enemies from a past she knew this land would not have yet forgotten. Stationed nearby were two horses of the Rohirrim, one white and the other brown, waiting patiently for their masters to return from the forest's dark inner reaches.

A southern breeze suddenly blew below her, filtering through the dead grasses and billowing the fabric of her wardrobe ever so slightly. She breathed the air that journeyed from afar, smelling the land that traveled with it. It had been near 500 years since she was west of Rhovanion, having been banished by King Thranduil on her unexpected encounter in Northern Mirkwood - the place she was born, but not raised.

In the middle of her second long breath of air, four forms emerged close to her right. Her left hand was already on her sword's handle, for caution of the company's foul intent. Gandalf's bright aura glared against the forest's darkness until it neutralized in the sun. She glanced at him, tilting her head down ever so slightly, respectively acknowledge his presence, only to realize one of his companions had drawn his bow and arrow, pointing it in her direction- a tall Elf of blond hair and fair complexion. She had encountered him before, the son of Thranduil, though his name eluded her. He, on the other hand, had recognized her by name immediately. She stared back at him, the traditional black eyeliner of the Easterling militia unintentionally emphasizing her eyes' intensity. She was amused slightly at the feeling of being targeted as her hand relished the grip of her sword's handle, but she also felt unnerved by being reminded of their previous relations.

Gandalf quickly broke the tension, "Good, you're early," he said briskly as he walked towards her nonchalantly. "Then the task I set you to did not tarry." He had requested she discover the origin of any interference she discovered on the Westfold, not hinting to what that may be. It ended up being troops of Wildmen pillaging and raping villages, pledged to Sarumon the White.

Legolas's eyes showed mild confusion, "She is an enemy of men and elves, banished from these lands centuries past."

"Yes, but the terms of her banishment will have to be settled at a later date. For now, she has risked her life to bear invaluable news from the East and if we are to defeat Sauron, we will want all skilled warriors on our side," Gandalf said hastily as he moved next to her. "Vezely of Rhun," he turned to face the three, "Meet Aragorn, son of Arathon, Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland realm."

Vezely responded by placing her fist on her chest and bowing her head; an Easterling greeting.

Legolas slowly eased his bowstring, but not his eyes.

"You are an Easterling?" Aragorn asked calmly, trying to assess the situation which had unsettled his elf companion.

"Yes and no," Vezely replied stoically, relaxing her other hand's grip from her sword and turning her eyes to the ranger. She pulled her headscarf slightly farther down from her face. _Was this Isildur's heir?_ She thought as she inspected him; having heard the rumors circulating. He had a kind demeanor, and soft eyes that betrayed an ever thoughtful mind.

"Vezely was raised in the East, but she is of Elvish decent," Gandalf intervened, leaning ever so slightly on his staff, deciding it best to not let the woman play games in the midst of noble hearts. "She is partially responsible for the first alliance between Gondor and Rohan, once a puppet of Sauron when he was posted at Dol Guldur. It was she who helped persuade the armies of the East to wage war on Gondor. But, and this I am certain," he directed his words at Legolas, "She has freed herself from Shadow and will pay her debt in time."

"The dark elf witch of Balchoth," Gimli thought out loud, connecting the dots of history.

Vezely glared at the dwarf, not knowing her own legend in these lands, having spent the former century far past the Sea of Rhun where news from the West was slow and untrustworthy.

"Yes, the same," Gandalf responded.

"She cannot be trusted," Legolas spoke in Elvish, directing his words at Gandalf and Aragorn, for upon their prior meeting, Vezely did not understand the Elvish tongue. Unbeknownst to him, in the preceding century, she had studied their words from books she acquired.

"Nor should I be in these dark times," she responded abruptly, not in Elvish for fear of mispronunciation. "But know, we all share a common goal." Though fluent in Westron, she had a subtle accent that matched her foreign appearance.

"Indeed," Gandalf interjected with a smile, "Vezely has every reason to desire the fall of Sauron, and her sword will be most useful." The wizard walked further out into the grasslands, his grey cloak caught the low wind and he whistled melodically into the breeze, pitching the sound far into the surrounding area.

A great white horse descended from afar, floating gracefully as if clouds buffered its feet.

"That is one of the _Maeras, unless my eyes_ are cheated by some spell," Legolas spoke amidst the stunned silence; all were entranced by the sight of the mythical beast. The majestic creature had momentarily eased the tension around him.

"Shadowfax," Gandalf greeted the steed who stood in front of him, patting him ever so gently on the nose. "He is the lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers." Desiring to move on from the previous conversation, Gandalf quickly mounted the horse, "We ride to Edoras," prompting the others to follows.

Legolas glanced sternly at Vezely, as if to let her know she would be watched. She understood his suspicion, for she represented an abomination among his people - an Elf corrupted, tainted by the dark forces of this world, an occurrence all but unheard of. For exactly this reason, she was once a prize of Sauron, part of his revenge for the Elves' betrayal of his offer of an alliance. She would have to gain his trust and that of the king of Rohan if she was to regain any shed of honor in these lands.

As they rode across the great expanse of plains, Legolas's mind further considered the situation. Centuries passed since he last encountered her, after a horse transported her, injured and barely conscious, to the entrance of his father's city. She had entered the forests of Mirkwood with a small company of Easterlings, returning from defeat in the Battle of the Word where she had slain Eorl the Young, Rohan's first king. They were undoubtedly taking a more direct route to the fortress of Dol Guldur, on the hill of Amon Lanc, where Sauron as Necromancer had taken up his residence a millennium into the Third Age. Many of Thranduil's forces were off on campaigns against invading orcs, but their group would encounter a small band of Woodland Guard stationed on the southern borders. The following skirmish left only her standing, though in need of aid - a knife had pierced her left lung and an arrow had punctured her thigh.

Gathering her spent body on a horse, the animal instinctively transported her closer to the Elvish residence; a large stone entrance that led to caverns underground. There she would fall from its back and lay still on the grasses below, bleeding her life away. A few Elves were in the area and approached her apprehensively, waiting to see if any others would follow. Instead, another band of Woodland Guard arrived, one of which was Legolas. They had followed the horse's tracks from the site of conflict; the dead bodies of their kinsmen fresh on their minds. They quickly had their arrows drawn on her.

Sensing something wrong, a young healer instinctively ran to the fallen body, pushing her gently on her back. "It is a woman," she called out, "And she is Elf kind." She looked at those around her, all unsure how this could be.

Legolas demanded the young healer to move, his fingers pulling back on his bowstring as the woman was falling in and out of consciousness; her hand trying but failing to grasp the blood stained sword that lay beside her. Legolas's companions took her weapon, knowing it was stained with the blood of their fellow guardsmen. They wanted to let her die.

King Thranduil had ascended on the scene calmly, as if sensing the commotion from inside his halls. "Treat her wounds," his strong voice said assuredly, gesturing with his hand the command to lower their bows. A moment later, two elves lifted her body and took her to be tended to. Thranduil was all too aware of what had transpired; he could see it painted on the face of his son and fellow guardsmen.

"Father," Legolas came to his side, his voice dripping in concern, "Are you sure that is wise?"

Thranduil gazed into Mirkwood's dark depths, his thoughts enveloped, as if assessing a message being passed through the surrounding trees. "There is reason behind her arrival here, a necessary path she must take…"

So easily the past could be recalled, perhaps for having been one of the few moments in Legolas's long life that he doubted his father's judgment, and where an Elf killed another Elf within his homeland. He did not know what to make of her reappearance, though he would watch her carefully for she was undoubtedly still unpredictable.

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_**A/N: Please take a moment to review now or later as you hopefully keep reading. I would love to hear your thoughts. Thank you!**_


	2. Easterling Spice Tea

This story will follow the trajectory of the films, with info from the books peppered into it. Thank you for the reviews and please continue to enjoy! -MA

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**Chapter 2 Easterling Spice Tea**

Night had fallen on Rohan and the travelers decided to break until dawn. The trio quickly got to work setting up camp, a ritual that surely became routine during their long journey across Middle Earth. Vezely tended to her horse and found her flask to quench her thirst. She had been traveling for several months through Rhovanian, braving harsher terrains to stay out of Easterling militia marching grounds, before hiding in the shadows of Mirkwood and coming to Rohan. She was weary, though no more so than her present company; though they seemed renewed by having regrouped with Gandalf, while also finding solace in the fact that two of their former traveling companions, hobbits of the Shire, were now relatively safe from harm. Vezely knew little about their former quest, though she suspected the One Ring was involved. She dare not ask for fear of garnering unnecessary suspicion. Her task was simple - to fight on their side in a war that would soon find them.

Aragorn had quickly started a small fire, which Gimli and Legolas provided kindling to. She quietly took a seat nearby, crossing her legs underneath her in a distinctly Easterling fashion.

"I think I shall sleep sound tonight," Gimli grunted as he sat down, feeling the past several days of tracking exhausting.

"And no doubt your snoring will dissuade everyone else from it," Legolas remarked, much to the amusement of the dwarf, who chuckled at his words. He then left with Aragorn to gather their supplies.

Having already pulled her scarf away from her face, she left it loosely on her head as one would a hood, preferring to keep her hair and ears hidden from sight. The light from the fire illuminated her pale face, while the whites of her eyes looked ghostly with the black liner. She quietly waited for the others to return, gazing solemnly into the fire.

"Wildmen are travelling in small bands, pillaging settlements on the western front," her voice broke the silence that continued even after they all gathered. Her eyes remained fixed on the flame. "They'll go from village to village if unhindered."

"Pledged to Saruman no doubt," Gandalf thought out loud.

Vezely nodded, "Yes, the man I queried yesterday said as much," having disbanded a small band of Wildmen the prior day during her travels.

"Your confirmation is appreciated," Gandalf said gratefully.

"It was a pleasure," she nodded forthrightly, having enjoyed the small battle she fought. Then seeking ease to her troubled mind, she asked, "Yet the Rohirrim continue to ride north?" She had scouted the troop on her journey to Fangorn.

"That is precisely why we must reach Theodon," Gandalf said assuredly, "Until then his people are at the mercy of Saruman's forces."

"The West continues to wait on its kings," Vezely remarked with slight disdain, narrowing her eyes on the fire, disliking far-reaching dictatorships. The East traditionally lacked central ruler ship before Sauron, instead it was divided into many fiefdoms and ruling clans. This way power was dispersed and the people were less likely to idealize their rulers as gods, though they were also easier to overthrow.

"And is the East any better lass?" Gimli inquired gruffly.

Vezely stared at him intensely for a brief second before smirking, "Not currently."

Gimli laughed, realizing perhaps she was not always serious.

Hoping to gather more information, Aragorn asked, "And this news you bring?"

Looking first to Gandalf for approval, Vezely explained: "It is as expected. The last of the resistance of men has all but fallen. Thousands of Easterling militia make their way to Mordor's Black Gates as we speak, no doubt to follow through on campaigns in Mirkwood and further North. Haradrim and the Corsairs of Umbar have their eyes on Gondor. Their numbers are great."

"Resistance? In the East?" Gimli queried, as if the rest of the news was expected.

Vezely replied steadily, "There has always been an outpost of free men around the Sea of Rhun. Morinehtar and Romestamo did all they could, and it was them who urged me to cross the Rhovanian to find Gandalf."

"You know the Blue Wizards?" Legolas asked suspiciously.

Looking at the elf slyly, she then smiled slightly, "If it were not for them, I would still be your enemy."

Legolas's eyes narrowed, wondering whether such a change was possible in one once so corrupted. "You have not yet proven contrary," he replied, finding the words leaving his mouth hastily, especially because right after he discerned a flash of apology in her eyes.

Vezely knew he had no reason to trust her outside of Gandalf's word. She had not been expecting to be confronted so quickly with a person from her past, despite the assault on the senses the West had already brought her since crossing over.

Gimli grunted, breaking the tension between the two elves. "Well before anyone proves anything, I'm getting some rest, seeing as we have another long day of riding awaiting us."

"Legolas, khila amin (follow me)," Aragorn stood up, hoping to remove Legolas from Vezely's presence for the time being.

As they left the fire, Aragorn calmly asked, "There is bad blood between you."

"She killed my kinsmen," his voice was without overt emotion. "It was my father who let her go."

Gandalf approached the men, placing a hand on the shoulder of Legolas, "Your father would not condemn her soul to eternal limbo in the Halls of Mandos, Legolas. Elves are by nature good. She is here to redeem that which is the light of your people."

Legolas assumed this was the case, then he asked unsure of the answer, "It is rumored she is descendent of Elured, one of the lost sons of Dior and Nimloth."

"Elrond's line?" Aragorn hesitated.

"That is correct. When she was an infant, her parents were slaughtered by orcs and she was taken as a gift to Sauron, who had her raised as a warrior of the Balchoth all in order to prove that the good in this world can be corrupted to do his bidding," Gandalf explained, hoping to shed light on her situation, "Her allegiance to her people and to Sauron was strong, and disconnecting from that past has proved most trying. If she seems off-centered, know it is not because she bids our people ill-will."

"Then she has my pity," Legolas said guiltily, realizing now she had been a pawn in Sauron's plans.

"And she would not take it," Gandalf replied. "She will appear brash and brazen to elf standards, her manners are Easterling. Yet she will do her part in this war. But you had good reasons to doubt her. As you might imagine, Theodon may not take kindly to her presence and it should be his call whether she is allowed to live for her sins against his people. It is hoped he will accept her sword. If not, I cannot protect her. She knows this and she accepts this."

Aragorn added, "If the stories of her are true, he would be a fool to deny her aid."

"Indeed," Gandalf agreed, hoping he had instilled some sense of calm in his companions. "Another reason why the Blue Wizards insisted on her relocation. There was little more she could do in the East after the resistance fell, but the West is in dire need of skilled warriors."

Meanwhile, Vezely prepared a place a little further from the fire, hoping to give her companions the space she felt she had encroached upon. She wanted to rest her mind, having been alert for days roaming through the orc and Wildmen-infested Rohan. She looked up at the stars before closing her eyes, finding some semblance of peace in the fact that they still appeared in Rohan, something she had missed since Shadow fell on Rhun, and since her captivity in Dol Guldur. Perhaps there is something worth fighting for, she thought before drifting off.

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The next morning Vezely awoke early, hoping to tend to Gizik before setting out again. The black horse had accompanied her through many travels, and became a close friend and confidant in such times of isolation. She greeted her softly in Easterling tongue.

"What is her name?" Aragorn asked politely, approaching her from the side.

"Gizik," Vezely replied, "In Westron it means storm, and she lives up to that name," she smiled proudly, patting the horse on the nose.

Aragorn did likewise. "She is a rare breed," he noted, admiring the creature's graceful lines.

"She is a descendent of the horses of the Wainriders, charioteers, bred swift, fearless, and strong," Vezely said while fastening her blanket to the back of the saddle.

Aragorn spoke to the horse in elvish, causing her ears to pick up and her eyes to look upon Aragorn kindly.

"You speak Elvish well?" Vezely asked, slightly surprised by his fluency.

"I was raised by elves for some time," Aragorn smiled politely.

"I see. I was raised amongst Easterlings, I learned the Elvish tongue only recently," she said nonchalantly, throwing a glance at Legolas, who had also arisen and approached the area.

"'Quel amrun (good morning), Legolas," Aragorn said in his direction.

"'Quel amrun," he replied, taking the two Rohirrim horses further off, he acknowledged Vezely's presence with a small nod.

"I make him uncomfortable," she quietly said to Aragorn. "I do not blame him." She looked momentarily discontent, something Aragorn picked up - a small crack in her tough exterior, he thought.

"Here," Aragorn said, while handing her a small leaf wrapped parcel, "You should eat something before heading out."

Vezely nodded in thanks, taking and unwrapping the green leaf to reveal light colored bread.

"It's lembas, Elvish whey bread, a small amount will fill your stomach," he said before leaving.

She stared at it momentarily, having seen it once before. Taking a small bite and swallowing she was again amazed by its nourishment, as if she had eaten a whole meal and could remain satisfied for hours. She rewrapped the leaf and placed it in her rucksack. Then taking Gizik by the reigns she regrouped with the others who were also preparing to ride out.

Over mountains and plains, the vast stretches of Rohan seemed to coalesce on one point. "Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf announced, slowing his horse's speed before their approach. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong."

Vezely followed behind the others as they entered the settlements below the Golden Hall. Villagers stared suspiciously at the odd mix of travelers; the silence allowed only their horse's hooves to be heard among the streets.

Gimli broke the silence further, "You'll find more cheer in a graveyard."

Dispensing their horses at the stables, which were perched high on the hill, they climbed the steps to the Golden Hall directly above. The view was breathtaking, providing a perfect view of the kingdom's expanses - a true seat of a king.

Gandalf turned to Vezely, "Now, no mention of your identity until the right time presents itself. The king has enough to worry about without having to deal with an enemy of Rohan's past."

She nodded in agreement; concealing her identity had become routine in her present life and the reasoning behind her constant wearing of head gear. Her elven ears were always a problem amongst the company of men.

At the entrance, they were greeted by guards dressed in full armor. The men of Rohan were swarthy folk, wearing beards and unruly, long wavy hair.

The man in the middle spoke nervously but with a sense of duty and honor, "I cannot allow you before Théoden king so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of… Gríma Wormtongue."

With a nod from Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli began removing their many weapons and giving them to the guards. Vezely did the same, though parting from them, even temporarily proved trying. Her eyes bore holes into the guard she gave them to, who looked at her bewildered, not knowing what to make of this strange Easterling woman who was armed so heavily.

The head guard again addressed Gandalf, "Your staff."

In all his cunning charm, Gandalf replied, "Eh? Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

Perhaps knowingly, he allowed the old wizard to pass, staff intact. Gandalf gave a reassuring wink, taking Legolas's arm as false assistance as they entered the Golden Hall. A pale wretch of a man, with black greasy hair stood at the side of the wearied king, whispering in his ear. _Undoubtedly a servant of Sarumon_, Vezely thought while taking in his unsavory appearance.

As the conversation commenced, guards began encircling the group. Much to his dismay, Grima noticed Gandalf's staff causing the guards to attack them. The group fought back, allowing Gandalf safe passage to the king. Vezely kicked two guards high in the chest, sending them down on the ground.

The head guard Hama ceased his soldiers from attacking them any further, allowing Gandalf to free his king from the evil bounds of dark magic. It was an alarming sight, watching the king transform back into his former self, only a shadow of the decrepit figure she first saw. With his strength returned, he cast Grima from the city. But as soon as he was informed of the death of his son, the revelry of the moment ceased. Further business would be delayed until Théodred, son of Theodon, was laid to rest.

In the time preceding the funeral, guards who once blocked their entrance to the Golden Hall were leading them to communal quarters, though Gandalf remained in the main hall, further assisting Theodon with his grief. In the cabin, there were several tables and cots, and a wash room, which Vezely took advantage of in order to wash her face of its accumulated dirt from traveling. She removed her headscarf completely, and ran her fingers through her short hair. She did not conform to the standards of beauty in these lands, where long locks graced almost every head of female folk and most men, for that matter. For her hair was short; sheared off years past and maintained to disregard notions of caring about her appearance. Even though slightly outgrown now, a shorter cut also proved practical underneath Easterling headgear and preferable in the insufferable heat of Rhun's dessert where she was previously stationed. A few gold rings lined her ears, and their pointy tips barely peeked through her tresses; though one of those tips was missing - a wound which still held much anger. Her neck was long and graceful and her skin fair, as all elves are, regardless of the time she spent in the harsh sun. Yet she had faint freckles painted delicately across the brim of her nose and cheeks; a rare trait among elves and those with it were said to be painted by the stars. Elves were blessed with beauty and loved beautiful things, though she would prefer to dismiss such triviality and felt her elf-like appearance was more of a burden in the culture she was raised.

Having been left alone by the guards, she felt no need to replace her headgear immediately and stepped back into the main room among the three travelers.

Gimli looked on her in amazement, for a woman without long hair was uncommon, and such a stark contrast from Lady Galadriel, whose golden tresses enchanted him. "Well this is a rare sight," he mumbled while lounging in one of the chairs.

Legolas and Aragorn, who were not facing her way turned to see what Gimli was referring to. Legolas looked upon the woman he remembered prior to her leaving his home in Mirkwood. Her hair was the warmest color of the richest tilled earth; her skin with the subtle markings of the stars. Back then her hair was shoulder length, as was customary for Easterling women. Its loss, however, did not distract him from re-acknowledging that he held a mild attraction to her; a thought that even further conflicted him now as it did then, for it was uncommon for elves to feel lust.

Aragorn thought she looked deceitfully young, even for an elf. He wondered if cutting her hair off was a way to deny any connection to her kin and the beauty they all held.

Vezely was instantly aware of their brief stares, for her unhidden appearance always elicited them. She narrowed her eyes slightly perturbed before completely ignoring them. Holding her head high, she moved towards her rucksack, which she placed in the opposite corner of the room. She leaned on her knees, her back facing them, which displayed the tattoos of Easterling script centered down her spine. Legolas took note of these markings and grew curious as to their meanings, while also taking notice to her missing ear tip; the sight of which disturbed him.

She removed a small tin from her pack which contained crushed tea leaves and spices. She had already put a kettle of water on the fire when they arrived.

"Some sort of tonic?" Gimli asked curiously, for food and drink was always on his mind.

"I suppose. It's quite a common drink in Rhun with many variations." She grabbed a few more cups after putting the mixture into the kettle to brew.

Gimli grabbed the tin she placed on the table, cocking one eye up as he smelled its contents. "Cinnamon, and cloves?" He said surprised, trying to grasp the mixture.

"And some nutmeg. Often it's served with milk and honey," Vezely added politely, as she began pouring the hot mixture into the cups. "It's a winter drink, to keep one warm on a winter night."

"These spices are uncommon West of Rhovanian," Aragorn said, taking the cup and enjoying the scent.

"And you forgot expensive," Gimli added, noting how trade between East and West had slowed to such a point that it became nearly impossible to obtain such spices.

Vezely handed a cup to Legolas, holding it out to him with two hands in a gesture of respect. She did not say a word, nor did he when he took it, also with both hands, nodding politely at the exchange. She smiled in recognition of his return polite gesture. It was small moment Aragorn and Gimli picked up on, and both were grateful Vezely was making an effort to ease the tension between herself and their friend.

"Some say the East is full of wealth. Perhaps that is true to an extent," Vezely thought aloud, after taking a seat next to Gimli.

"You certainly wear your gold lass," Gimli said amused at her earrings and gold rings.

She looked at him furtively before holding up her hand in front of her face to admire its adornments, "It is customary for Easterling warriors to wear their clan-wealth or talismans stolen from their enemy's dead bodies. It is said to strike fear in those who would oppose them."

"Psychological warfare," Aragorn stated, knowing of the Easterling military strategies.

"Those golden hordes would not make dwarves quake," Gimli said assuredly, sipping the brew only to burn his tongue.

"Perhaps not," she replied amused, and then looking at him with a raised eyebrow, "Of course, they would not have the _dark elf witch of the Balchoth_ to lead them."

"She's almost as cocky as you," Gimli said jokingly, referring to Legolas who also smirked at the comment.

Aragorn laughed and then said encouragingly, "You'll fit right in."

Vezely smiled and stared down at her cup before looking up at Legolas, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. She did not know what to make of it, but something stirred in her that moment and she had a hard time pulling her eyes away. He was curious about her and the time in between their first meeting, as she was of him for she had not been in the company of elves. Yes, she was elvish by blood but so far removed from their culture.

Cheered by the tea, Gimli began questioning Vezely of trade in Rhun, curious of their dealings and Vezely provided him any knowledge she had. It was small talk located well outside their current tasks, a mental respite much needed in these times. It also relieved Vezely of discussing any other specifics of her past. During this chat, the travelers gained a sense of her amicability; she was not quarrelsome as they may have expected, simply of a different culture.


	3. The Stars Call to You

**Chapter 3 - The Stars Call to You**

It was not long before everyone had gathered for the procession of Theodred's body to the grave. Mourning the dead held no cultural distinction, Vezely thought, as the grief stricken voice of Eowyn chanted to the wind.

The Golden Hall would be empty that night, save for the king, his niece, the four travelers and two small children who made their way on horseback from a village on Rohan's borders. Gimli and the two children were busy eating, the latter being comforted by Eowyn, who knelt next to them. Aragorn leisurely smoked his pipe, while Legolas preferred to stand, leaning against one of the great hall's pillars with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed forward. Vezely sat quietly at the table, observing those around her. She had already been introduced by Gandalf as "Vez," a messenger from the East, not wanting to unnecessarily burden the king with her identity. Vezely knew what deed Gandalf must commit to now - Theodon must be persuaded to go to war.

Eowyn listened to the children tell their story, and echoed the words to the room, "They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the Wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go, every rick, cot and tree." Aragorn looked at Legolas and then Vezely, knowing this verified her given information from the night before.

Gandalf continued this plight, "This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven mad by the fear of Sauron." His eyes glanced briefly at Vezely, whose dealings with Sauron may have been similar.

_Driven mad, perhaps, but not by fear_, she thought solemnly.

"Ride out and meet him head on," Gandalf coaxed, "Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

Aragorn added humbly, "You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king."

Theoden looked despondent, "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now! Eomer cannot help us…I know what is that you want of me. But I would not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you, whether would risk it or not," Aragorn stated, a truism which couldn't be denied.

But Theoden took offense to being undermined, "When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan."

Gimli's sudden belch broke the tension allowing Gandalf to continue, "Then what is the king's decision?"

…The decision to relocate to Helm's Deep set things in motion, causing the entire household and surrounding village into action in order to leave by morning's first light. As Vezely passed through the Golden Hall, she encountered Eowyn, who was busy going through trunks of items, preparing as everyone else to leave from Edoras.

"You are well armed for a woman," Eowyn called out to Vezely as she passed by. "If you don't mind me asking…Is it true, that Easterling women fight alongside the men?"

Vezely turned toward the shield maiden; her eyes displayed a great curiosity, for it was indeed rare to see a woman brandishing weaponry so freely in her land. "Yes, it is true. From childhood, Easterlings are trained to fight. To protect one's home by wielding a sword, it matters not what is in between your legs. But what is in here." She pressed her hand to her heart before looking down into the trunk Eowyn stood by, seeing a sword and acknowledging it as hers. She smiled inside, sensing Eowyn held a hidden desire to prove herself in battle. Vezely picked up the sword and extended it to Eowyn, who grabbed it by the handle. "It's man's world, Eowyn," Vezely continued, "Not because it should be, but because we let them have it."

Eowyn couldn't help but agree with the woman warrior from the East. After sharing a confiding smile, she would then practice its swing and feel its weight again. _It's a man's world_, Eowyn thought, _Not because it should be…_

Vezely exited the back of the hall and stood on the terrace overlooking the expanses of land just beginning to be illuminated by the morning sun. But more so, it was the stars that called her. Their presence, all too soon to be hushed by the sun, exuded a calmness she needed.

Legolas also stood on the terrace, observing her from afar, uncomfortably curious of this elf from the East whose story of rebirth eluded him.

* * *

The journey to Helm's Deep was slow, made ever more difficult by the villagers, young and old, who moved slowly through the rough terrain and rocky, rolling hills surrounding Edoras. Legolas scouted up front, ahead of the line, while Aragorn requested Vezely to scout the back, much to the displeasure of two scouts that Thoedon had already requested go in that direction. Undoubtedly they would be tracked and there was a high possibility of being attacked. Aragorn did not tell Theodon of his reasoning for sending Vezely, whose eyes outmatched all but Legolas's. He would keep Vezely's identity a secret as per Gandalf's request, one which he reminded her again of before he took off to find Eomer and the Rohirrim.

As Vezely rode to the back of the line of villagers and soldiers, Theodon spoke, "I would not expect to be in such company in this age, or any past," referring to their group's Easterling companion. "How is it that you travel with an Easterling?"

Aragorn could sense Theodon's strong distrust of the woman's origins. "She is of the resistance of free men around the Sea of Rhun," Aragorn replied calmly.

"Free or not, the people of Rhun cannot be trusted," Theodon said resolutely; speaking a mantra of his people whose dark past with the inhabitants to the East was not forgotten.

Aragorn shifted in his horse slightly.

"History cannot dictate every obstacle we come across," Eowyn interjected before Aragorn could reply; having found respect for the woman warrior through their brief conversation just prior. The pale skinned woman walked in large strides alongside her uncle's horse, smiling up at him, which made his concern momentarily melt into a smile back at her. "If we cannot trust those that Gandalf trusts, then hope is truly lost," she added.

Aragorn nodded to the maiden, and then remarked, "She is a skilled warrior and rider, here of her own will and with Gandalf's blessing."

"I do not doubt Gandalf," Theodon replied, looking forward again, "It is yet another twist of the fateful direction this world is heading."

Aragorn could sense the meaning history held for Theodon and his kin, one which Easterlings held a tarnished place and Vezely a demon within it.

Vezely kept her distance from the group, keeping ever on the outskirts, watching the travelers snake across the land, peering with her elf eyes across the stretches they departed from. There, her memories collided into vivid recollections of her past at the helm of a vast army of Balchoth, who descended on those hills intent on destroying whoever stood in their path. It was neither the first nor the last battle she fought, but the last one in the West. She was again that black figure on the landscape; a true outsider. Her presence was even more uncanny than her fellow elf and dwarf amongst the mass of Rohan's villagers who have only encountered Easterlings in their stores - as villains, as king slayers.

She had heard of the encampment of Helm's Deep, cut into a mountain side, a strong fortification but one without easy escape. _Would war find its way there?_ She wondered as Gizik galloped closer to the travelers who began settling into an encampment as the sun turned down.

She carefully led her horse by the reigns through the mass of weary villagers who were sitting in small groups, with some starting fires, and others fetching pots to prepare for their long overdue meal. Vezely felt the stares of many eyes as she passed by and whispers of their curiosity hit her cloaked ears. She approached Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas, who had also found a place to rest on the rocky outcropping.

She nodded to the group in greeting, Gizik trailing close behind her. "I will refresh Gizik and return to keep watch on the East overnight," she said calmly, "So far the lands have been quiet."

"You should also take rest," Aragorn replied, as they were at that moment sharing a hot meal of modest stew.

Vezely smiled slightly at the gesture but declined. "I am not weary," she said with her eyes remaining forward, hoping not to betray her troubled thoughts of her past on this landscape. She then continued on to feed Gizik.

Legolas could sense her deep held sadness as she walked off.

"Our people call her Nwalmaer," Legolas spoke to his friends after she had left.

"Tormented one," Aragorn translated.

After nodding slightly he continued, "Sauron's hatred coursed through her, I could see it in her eyes. For our kind, to have one's light completely overrun…"

"Is unthinkable," Aragorn finished as his words trailed off.

"I would suspect the title still holds," Legolas added with slight concern, not knowing if his non-elf companions could sense her emotions.

Gimli spoke, stirring the elf from his thoughts, "Tell me, why would your father simply let her leave?"

"She bargained her way out, her life for another's," Legolas replied after a moment remembering the day she awoke from her healing sleep; she had taken hostage the healer who had nursed her wounds, pressing a knife against her neck, drawing blood and dismay from the one who hoped to heal her. "I do not know if the same force steadied my hand on my bowstring as urged my father to simply let her go."

"There is still much we do not know," Aragorn added diplomatically, "In time, the situation will make more sense."

Legolas knew this to be true, but his curiosity prompted him to overcome his previous reservations and engage in conversation with the woman. He felt a need to know more about her.

* * *

Leaving her horse to feed with the others, Vezely walked to the edge of the encampment which was perched on a cliff above a black valley below. She simply wanted to gaze on the bright stars above.

Moments later, a smooth voice came from behind her, "The stars call to you."

She looked at him momentarily to gauge his desire in conversing with her before returning her eyes above. His intent seemed amicable. "The East has been covered in darkness for so long that I began to forget their alignment."

The prospect of forgetting where the stars sat in the sky was hard to fathom for Legolas, for only an occasional cloudy night could cover their presence. With his eyes also fixed above the horizon, he began retelling the story of the first stars. "It is said the first objects elves laid their eyes upon were the stars, so we continue to gaze at them, looking for guidance, perhaps a reminder of our origins and where we'll return…"

Vezely listened intently to his words as he continued, enchanted by his wisdom of this history she did not know. He spoke poetic and with meaning, revealing that her simple pleasure in their light was an elven trait; something more than just her ears and long life that connected her to his kin. She looked at him with wonder in her eyes, but noticing her gaze upon him, he stopped, realizing he had gotten carried away. Storytelling was a favorite pastime of his, though it had been some time since he had told one. "Forgive me," he said instinctively, trying to gauge her eyes with his own, "You probably want to be alone."

As he stepped away, Vezely remarked solemnly but forthrightly, "You should not apologize to me, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, for it is I who should apologize for the pain I brought your people."

Legolas stopped and turned to her but did not speak. He looked at her curiously, not expecting what she would say.

"I do not ask forgiveness, for I deserve none," she continued resolute, and then removing her eyes from the moonlit landscape, she looked at him, baring her honesty. "But know I feel remorse."

Legolas could sense a history of suffering behind her strong façade. She was young by elf standards though she had experienced much in her centuries here. He pitied her deep held sadness.

"You have changed," he said quietly after a lengthy silence. "I do not sense the same woman who blood bargained her way out of my village."

Vezely smiled inwardly as the same thoughts passed her mind. Change was a strange concept to grasp in regards to her past.

"Your father was far too forgiving," she added nonchalantly, hoping not too much of her thoughts seeped through to the elf, who she knew was studying her responses.

"I would agree," he replied assuredly, "Though I do not doubt he saw the possibility of today."

"Such prescience," she remarked disbelievingly, "Or perhaps foolishness."

"My father is many things, a fool not among them," Legolas remarked cautiously, hoping to not derail her from speaking comfortably to him.

"I would return to Rhovanion, to build another army, to start another war," she replied to the wind, "To take more innocent lives."

"And now you fight to save them," he added, his tone making it ambiguously a question.

Silence followed for a brief moment as Vezely considered his words, but declining a specific reply, she instead inquired, "Tell me. Do elves know if the stars will ever lose their light?"

It was not a thought fathomed by many for the stars existed before the elves and they have since dwelt in their light. "All things come to end," he said steadily, "Even time, which stars are said to stay until the end of." He wondered if there was hidden meaning behind her question; was she referring to whether her own light had been diminished. "But until then," he continued, "Their light remains even behind a veil of darkness."

She looked deeply into his blue eyes, taking in the meaning of his words and he returned her gaze with equal intensity finding she carried in them strength mixed with regret.

Before a response could be gathered and spoken, a man of wide girth and long beard stumbled nearby, burping obscenities while lighting a wooden pipe.

"I retire," Legolas said courteously, knowing such words need not have local eavesdroppers. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time?"

Vezely simply nodded as an affirmative response while a small smile graced her face as the fair elf left her side. She felt strangely comforted by having conversed with a former enemy, with one of her own kind. The fires of Mordor continued to burn over the horizon, but the stars' light anchored her gaze away from them.

Legolas also felt oddly comforted by their conversation; he recalled the feeling of her wonder-filled eyes on his and the thoughts warmed him.


	4. Scars and Wargs

Thank you so much for the reviews - it keeps me going!

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Scars and Wargs**

The morning light was met by the king's guards urging the weary villagers from their resting places to their feet. Vezely jumped on top of Gizik and rode to the back of the line, followed by the two other scouts who had been on watch with her the previous day. The burlier one of them galloped his steed nearby, cutting off Gizik intentionally and giving Vezely an angered stare. His companion followed him with a similar displeased facial expression.

Vezely returned their gaze through narrowed eyes.

"Women doing men's jobs, no wonder the Easterlings could never take our lands," he said to his companion, in earshot of Vezely.

She followed behind them, saying nothing, being terribly bored of men's insecurities on account of her gender.

The day continued quietly and Vezely kept her eyes fixed on the horizon behind them, ready to alert the king if any attack was imminent. Her companions continued their banter, throwing her stares from time to time, though she was content to ignore them.

Awareness of the oncoming warg attack hit Vezely's ears quickly and she immediately called to the two scouts, "We're under attack!" They didn't believe her until a wave of commotion traveled down the line of villagers who began panicking.

Vezely kicked Gizik into high gear, galloping forward toward the king and his guard. The two other scouts followed her lead, also kicking their horses into gear. She heard Theodon call all riders to the front of the column, commanding his niece Eowyn to continue to lead the villagers on to Helm's Deep.

She drove Gizik hard, reaching the others as they took off. She could see Legolas standing upon the ridge over which the wargs were arriving, his bow angled high, releasing an arrow to its deadly task.

Vezely unsheathed her blade, relishing its feel in her hand again, consumed by her love of battle that had been bred into her by the Balchoth. "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaa," she screamed her shrilling war cry, holding her blade out in front of her, with one hand on Gizik's reign, waiting for the collision of sides.

Bred brave and fast, Gizik had no trouble dodging out of the wargs' way but weary of their bite, Vezely jumped from Gizik onto the back of the foul creature, slicing the throat of the Orc upon it and grabbing its reigns. It was not the first time she had ridden a warg.

"Da clomp!" she commanded the creature in crude Orc language, instantly turning it on its companion's riders. The warg responded steadfastly to her words, sensing her maturity as a rider, submitting to her will and reigning terror at her command.

In the midst of fighting, a spear hailed from afar hit the side of her warg, stopping it in its tracks. Leaping from its side and somersaulting softly to her feet, a feat that betrayed her human disguise, Vezely took the disadvantaged ground position. She caught a glimpse of the spear thrower; it was none other than her former scout companion. Sheathing her sword, she retrieved her sais from her boot sides. The oncoming warg quickly found the thin blade in the side of it skull as she dodged its bite; the rider would find the other sais lodged into his gut, for the quick motion allowed her other hand to deliver an equally deadly jab.

The battle was winding down and the Rohirrim were finishing off the last of the warg riders who were attempting to flee. Vezely crossed paths with the scout, finding him retrieving his spear from the fallen warg she had been riding. Quickly turning, the man pointed the spear at her throat, "You are a witch!" he spat, "Riding that beast like second nature."

"Are you suicidal?" Vezely said sarcastically through clenched teeth, her eyes were fixed on the man's to gauge his next move. Such a gesture would have quickly warranted death any other time, but she had to hold her ground in the current company.

Along with others, King Theodon took notice of the commotion, "What is the meaning of this? Ridar, speak!" He yelled from atop his white horse.

"She commanded this warg with foul tongue my lord. She is a witch," Ridar replied, not moving his spear from her throat.

"And she killed the enemy by doing so. Stand down!" Theodon commanded his guard, who immediately heeded his word and relaxed his spear.

Vezely's smirked slightly, she couldn't help but be amused by this man's easy defeat.

"Aragorn?" the company overheard Legolas's call from afar, turning their attention from the previous commotion. Before galloping to where Aragorn and Gimli was stationed, Theodon cautioned Vezely, "I will deal with this later," knowing the situation was not yet resolved. Vezely nodded respectfully before he left.

"I'll be watching you," Ridar warned her further.

Vezely whistled with her two fingers to the wind, a signal to Gizik who quickly came to her side. She leapt effortlessly onto the horse's back. "I hope for your sake, you are quick when you strike," she replied before kicking Gizik's sides to follow the king.

She would find Legolas and Gimli shell shocked at the apparent loss of Aragorn, with Theodon commanding they leave the dead and continue on. She was also at a loss for words, sensing the anguish of her two companions who lost a dear friend, and bearing the reality of losing a man who held rank and promise amongst the world of Free Men. She kept her distance from the scene, not interfering, nor knowing how to console if she did. Instead, she heeded Theodon's commands to aid the wounded and prepare them for the continued journey to the fortress.

Surveying the land, she found a soldier gasping for air, for his lung had collapsed from a side knife wound. He was coughing on his own blood and if left untreated, he would surely die from suffocation. Another soldier was by his side, applying pressure to his wound.

Assessing the situation, she said assuredly "I need to cut a hole in your throat to allow you to breathe easier."

"You will do what?"The dismay of the soldier was apparent. This Easterling would surely kill his friend if given the chance, he thought.

Instead of responding, she grabbed the goat skin canteen off of him and cut the straw-like end off to act as a stopper and passageway for air. Placing a hand on the fallen soldier's forehead, she said softly, "You will need to be still." He immediately calmed down despite his difficulty breathing. Her elvish qualities soothed him. Using a small knife, she quickly did the deed, inserting the straw and commanding the fallen soldier to breathe. Air suddenly could fill his one lung with ease, and though labored he was no longer choking.

"Arman!" The man cried his friend's name, relieved.

"This will need to be changed regularly until he heals," she said to him, "Transport him carefully."

The man was at a loss for words, "How…?"

"I have seen many wounds," she said stoically before leaving to assist others.

* * *

Entering the gates of the fortress of Helm's Deep, Vezely felt uncomfortable and caged in. If a battle did find them, it would be the first time she would have to fight from inside closed gates.

Gimli felt it was his duty to inform the Lady Eowyn of Aragorn's death while Legolas, stricken with grief, left the present company. The wounded were transported to willing hands - the infirmary having been fully stocked and prepared for the arrival of the injured, thanks to Eowyn. Vezely desired to survey the surroundings, though she also wondered where Legolas was, for she was concerned about his condition after losing Aragorn.

Before leaving the medical ward, she was approached by an elderly woman. "Miss? Are you wounded?" Vezely was covered in blood, both orc and human, the latter from assisting the wounded on the battlefield.

"I am not harmed," she replied politely, hoping to bypass the woman and be on her way.

"Come," the old woman abrasively took Vezely by the arm, "We can at least allow you to wash up and rest," she then not to gently led her up the steps to a small empty room with rinse basins and a few cots.

"If I had to guess, you are from the East," the woman stated with cheerful repose, guiding her to a cot to sit down.

"You would be correct," Vezely replied uninterested in chit chat, though she wondered how the woman could maintain such a demeanor considering the situation. She removed her sword and sais, and placed them on the ground beneath the cot, along with her rucksack, which she took from Gizik before she was taken to the stables.

The old woman fetched a water jug and filled two shallow basins that sat on the low table next to the cot. Dipping fresh linen into it and wringing it out, she proceeded to wash Vezely's face of the dirt and blood, making sure they were not her wounds.

"Your skin is very pale my child," she said amused while dipping the linen in the water, "I have not seen such pale skin nor expected it on an Easterling who I thought were of darker complexions."

Vezely smiled slightly, unsure what to say. It was uncomfortable being taken care of but she hadn't the proper social etiquette to respectfully get out of it. The old her would not have let this woman touch her. Yet when the woman's hand went to remove Vezely's head covering, her fast reflexes grabbed the woman's wrist a little too tightly.

Loosening her grip carefully, "Gratitude," she said, "But I can take it from here."

The old woman maintained her concerned smile. "Alright my dear, you should be left alone for these quarters are currently unoccupied." She then exited the door, much to the relief of Vezely.

Rolling up the sleeves of her jacket and untying the fabric wrappings around her wrists, Vezely proceeded to wash her hands of the dried blood and dirt. The cool water felt refreshing against her skin and she closed her eyes while massaging her wrists under the water. Her wrists bore scars, wounds that never fully healed and ached from time to time.

"I heard you saved one of the king's guard today," the familiar voice slightly startled her, and she did not know how long he had been in the room. Elves were exceedingly quiet, unlike men, and despite her keen hearing she had not grown accustomed to their sounds, to her own sounds.

"And almost killed another," she said dryly referring to the scout incident, trying to tone down any impressiveness associated with the other deed. She quickly grabbed a linen cloth to dry her hands, for she desired to unroll her sleeves and cover her scars from view.

But Legolas had already seen them. Reaching where she sat, he gently took her wrists and held them up in the palm of his hands. His thumbs softly grazed over the scars as he inspected. He then found Vezely's eyes searching his own for answers to his dismay.

"How did you come by these?" He asked concerned, for scars to remain on an elf was unheard of.

She removed her eyes from his while also removing her wrists from his grasp, gripping her right wrist in her left hand, still aware of the feeling his prior touch gave. It took her a moment before she could speak, "You know of my imprisonment in Dol Guldur?" she asked calmly, waiting for his response, but it appeared he was unaware. Legolas then sat down next to her on the cot, placing his hands on his knees awaiting her explanation.

"The centuries following my return from Northern Mirkwood, I continued to wage war across the East in order to build an army for Sauron that was far greater than the one that descended on Rohan. I was even making plans to reinvade. I thought perhaps I overstepped, or Sauron grew tired of his experiment, or maybe he found my second in command more easily controllable," her voice betrayed a lingering anger for the man, "I am not certain. But my army revolted against me and I was taken to Dol Guldur. These scars remain." She held up her wrists.

"How long were you in captivity?" He asked carefully, for her scars appeared substantial.

"One life of man," she said quietly. Legolas closed his eyes in distress, unable to fathom such length of imprisonment, even for elves who had seen many ages pass. Vezely was young and undoubtedly spent the time in the dark and alone, away from any warmth or light.

Vezely could not bear to let him garner such sorrow on account of her; she clasped her hand on his wrist, causing him to turn his eyes to hers.

"I did not despair…and Aragorn did not fall in vain. When the battle finds us, it will be met with a better cause for blood," she said resolutely.

He felt her determination and soaked it in mentally, nodding in agreement to her charge.

Gimli approached the entrance to witness their closeness, though he did not have the heart to comment in his usual candor. Instead, he quietly made his way to a cot nearby, placing his axe and helmet aside.

During this time, Vezely slowly let go of his wrist, realizing her touch lingered slightly. Legolas then nodded at Gimli, who did the same, communicating their shared grief through their eyes. They would spend the next few hours silent.

Sitting cross legged on the ground in Easterling fashion, Vezely spent the time cleaning her sword of orc blood and honing its blade. A task she often did to ease her mind. Then commotion from outside arose the three travelers from their meditation, "Open the gates!"

Legolas quickly exited, sensing something, as Vezely looked at Gimli with the same curious wonder. "Lord Aragorn returns!" they heard someone shout.

Gimli's eyes went wide, "It can't be, it can't be!" he shouted his hopeful disbelief before following in Legolas's path. Such a turn of events was greatly welcomed at such a time of diminished hope. She sheathed her sword before making her way to the gate.

After Legolas and Gimli greeted Aragorn, Vezely also provided a respectful nod, "I did not think you would be killed so easily," she said with a sly smile, which Aragorn returned.

"Come," Aragorn said to his friends, "There is important business to discuss with the king."


	5. Submission

**Chapter 5 - Submission**

Entering the keep's great hall, they found King Theodon seated on an unembellished throne, his head guard stationed next to him. On his route there, Aragorn had witnessed a great host of Uruk-khai marching from Isengard; they would arrive by nightfall, 10,000 strong.

"Let them come." Theodon arose steadfast and sure from his seat and quickly exited the great hall, commanding his troops to prepare to bear arms and defend the Deep. His only hope came from history - that no one had breached the wall or set foot inside the Hornburg.

Following the king as he made his rounds from station to station, Aragorn and Gimli tried to talk sense into him, explaining the strength of Uruk-hai and the need to call for aid.

"And who will come?" Theodon queried slightly angered by the request, "Elves? Dwarves? Strangers from the East? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," Aragorn replied.

"Gondor? Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us!?...Where was Gon… No, my Lord Aragorn, we are alone," turning his back on Aragorn he commanded Gamling, "Get the women and children into the caves."

The trusted guard replied concerned, "We need more time to lay provisions for a siege, lord…"

"There is no time. War is upon us!"

Vezely had remained quiet, for not wanting to overstep her bounds. He had to rule his people, not have an Easterling outsider interfere. If she would share her concerns, she would do so to Aragorn only. As preparations began unfolding, she quietly mentioned to Aragorn, "If they have the blasting powder, these walls can be brought down." She was concerned, for it was being used more extensively in Eastern warfare.

"Such powder has not yet been used in war this far West," Aragorn replied to her, hoping to calm her fears.

But Theodon's ears were susceptible to all that flowed from this Easterling woman's mouth since the warg incident. "What is this blasting powder you speak of?" he commanded her.

Looking at Aragorn apologetically, Vezely pulled a small pouch hidden underneath her jacket and pinching a very fine portion of its contents, she displayed it to him in her palm. It looked no more than chips of black rock. Closing to make a fist, she threw it on a nearby torch, igniting the flame outward and blowing the metal from its base.

Shock filled those around them and many wondered whether she was a witch instead of a woman, Theodon included. The fear of the oncoming battle allowed thoughts of anger and deceit quickly overrun him. "Riding wargs, black magic…Who are you? What is your purpose? You are not some ordinary woman from Rhun, tell me!"

Knowing it was time, Vezely slowly removed her headscarf to reveal her lineage. Theodon's eyes narrowed, noting she was elf-kind but not yet drawing on the reason of its secrecy.

"My purpose is not deceit but my identity has not been true," Vezely spoke assuredly, "My name is Vezely, some know me as the dark elf witch of Balchoth and the hand of Sauron at Dol Guldur. To your people, I am the slayer of Eorl the Young, the first King of Rohan."

"Vezely of the Balchoth," Theodon mouthed her name as emotion drained from his face, he felt as if he was looking upon a mythical demon. Stun was also visible on the faces of those who had surrounded them, whose numbers had grown, being drawn there by the small explosion just prior.

Standing unashamed by the reaction, she continued, "I am willing to submit to the price of waging war on these lands and for breaking the terms of my banishment from the West." This was a death sentence. Unsheathing her sword, causing concern to some nearby, she immediately went down on her knees and held her sword out above her horizontally in the palms of her hands in an act of total submission. "But I return to fight for you King Theodon, for Rohan, for the people of Middle Earth. With your pardon, I ask that you allow me to defend Helm's Deep. Sauron is my enemy as he is yours."

It took several moments for Theodon to fully register the situation. He took Vezely's sword slowly and held it in front of him, feeling its balanced weight and observing its engraved markings of ancient Rhun Sanskrit. Vezely put the palms of her hands on the cold stone floor in front of her, tilted her head down and kept her eyes fixed downward, her neck displayed to the king if it came to that. It was hard to simply let go, but she had to, there was no other way.

"You brought war to these lands," he said still observing her sword, thinking of its wielder's past, her deeds against his ancestors. "The stories of you speak of pain, destruction, death…" He touched the cold blade to the back of her neck, appearing as if he was testing where it would be most effective to strike. Then he saw her missing ear tip and wondered whether the years had really treated her any kinder than death would.

Legolas watched with an ever-growing knot in his stomach, quietly breathing in the cool air in an attempt to settle a desire to help her; from where such a desire came he did not know. Was it simply pity? Aragorn who stood aside him placed a hand on his shoulder for reassurance.

"But through this we became stronger, and Rohan rose to its glory. You did not destroy us, they will not destroy us now," A fire built in Theodon's eyes and voice, finding strength for his people, "Rise Vez of Rhun," purposely using the name Gandalf addressed her to him as. "Rohan welcomes your aid."

Looking up, Vezely was greeted by her sword handle which she gratefully accepted. After sheathing it with one stroke, she nodded respectfully to King Theodon, who was still taking in the weight of his decision, hoping he did not mistake her sincerity.

"I will not disappoint," Vezely said resolutely as Theodon searched her face, the fabled demon bore a façade of elvish youth and beauty. He wondered, reviewing history, if as she killed the first king of Rohan, she would also witness the death of its last.

"Secure the gates!" Theodon yelled after turning away, again setting in motion the occupants of the great fortress.

Vezely felt liberated and the cool air felt anew as it blew through her short hair. She was free to follow the path she set on in truth even if such a battle was imminent and death certain. But she did not let these thoughts cloud her desire to move through the present with renewed purpose.

"You got yourself out of that one lass," Gimli added slightly relieved, for he also felt tense during the exchange.

Vezely nodded thoughtfully at him, and then she briefly looked at Legolas, and through their eyes they smiled at each other, for he was also grateful for Theodon's graciousness and for her ability to allow such a decision to be made. It proved to him a little further that she had changed.

Aragorn also gave her a reassuring nod before adding concerned, "That powder is not to be used lightly."

She agreed, "I have only a small amount, to be wielded only in dire circumstances."

The able bodied men would be ordered to the armory, the women and children to the caves. The four of them would be swept along with the mass of people, trying to keep the flow ordered and attempting to judge proper siege tactics.

"The greatest number of the enemy needs to fall before the wall is breached. Archers should be stationed all along here and here," Vezely pointed her fingers.

Aragorn agreed, "We'll place the reserves along the wall. They can support the archers from above the gate."

She nodded astutely, overtly cheered by battle banter. For all who were raised the Balchoth way, the feeling of approaching war gave quite a positive rush. "And those catapults need to be angled slightly higher," she stated as her eyes examined them from afar.

After she marched off in that direction, Aragorn said amused despite his weariness, "She seems right at home."

"Easterlings love war as a fly loves honey," Gimli replied instantly.

Legolas however was worried for his friend's condition, "Aragorn, you must rest, you are no use to us half-alive." He had not yet recovered from his fall into the ravine.

Before responding, Eowyn would approach Aragorn asking his permission to fight, of which he could not offer the response she desired. He turned away from her and with Gimli and Legolas, they made their way to the armory.

Having confirmed the equipments' readiness, Vezely, who was also on her way to the armory, ran into Eowyn.

"It is true then," the fair haired woman said, noting Vezely's ears, "You are the king slayer from long ago."

Vezely sensed hurt in Eowyn's eyes, not from this information, but from another incident. "I am sorry to have deceived you," Vezely replied carefully, unsure of her emotions.

"I am glad you fight for us," Eowyn replied graciously, "If only I could do the same."

She knew Eowyn would be relegated to the caves, a position demeaning to any with a warrior heart. "The fight may still find you, and in that moment, your valor will be unquestioned. Keep your sword close." She placed a hand on top of Eowyn's shoulder for reassurance, reminding her of her strength, and ability to wait out the night.

The armory was crowded. Axes, swords, shields, and spears were being passed around to all with empty hands. Before the entrance, Vezely overheard the raised voices of her companions and the Elvish exchange of Legolas and Aragorn, ending in Aragorn walking off and Legolas ashamed of his approach.

_Three-hundred to ten-thousand_, she repeated the number Legolas stated in her head; the odds were truly against them. She waited a moment before entering, hoping the commotion would resume so her presence would not cause more tension.

After entering, she noticed Legolas had already taken leave by another entrance and only Gimli remained. Her presence, however, caused another silence to seep through the hall and those in her way quickly jumped aside for fear of offense. They held a mixture of fear and awe of her, for all knew the stories of Rohan's beginning, all had been told about the battle of the Wold and the daemon usurper Vezely of the Balchoth who killed their first king on the battlefield.

For a moment, Vezely felt in command of them, for her army always elicited a similar response to her presence, but she reminded herself, this was not the past and such behavior was not out of respect.

She greeted Gimli silently, and he took her by the arm, "Come lass, we should not continue to interrupt them."

They exited several rooms over, though it was also filled with weapons for which the main armory had no room; many appeared discarded due to age and style. Vezely found a line of old long bows which horsemen often had no need for, due to preferring the portability and ease of a short bow. Knowing her sword skill would be of no use until the walls were breached, she searched the row for one whose wood was not rotted and string still taut.

"I am going to see if they have any proper armor," Gimli said determined, after looking through shelves of long daggers, leaving Vezely to her task.

Legolas was in the next room and entered to find Vezely testing a bow string. "Do you even know how to use one?" He asked somewhat cockily, trying to elicit a more cheerful response; he needed levity in the current situation.

Vezely smirked and reply in a similar manner, "Well enough. Of course, it is not my weapon of choice. I like the enemy to see my face before I take their life."

He took the bow from her hand, and also tested it, pulling its string and feeling its weight. "This will not do," he said confidently, putting it back in the pile. He ran his fingers down the line of bows, gauging them from the color and feel of their wood. Vezely stood there admiring his gracefulness. He moved differently than men, he moved differently than her; he moved like an elf. It is said elves perfect their movement during their long lives, to make every move a dance that flows with the air, not against it. Vezely felt like she always moved against everything.

"This one," he pulled a bow from near the end of the pile, offering it to Vezely who noted it looked no different from the others.

She tested it and felt the strength of its string and its balanced weight. Legolas watched as she did this, noting the movement of her fingers on the string, her stance, it was not elf-like, despite her blood. He noted his strange interest in the details of these differences, and how they offered him an odd attraction.

She smiled at him, pleased with its feel, "Gratitude, this will do nicely."

He nodded with a half-smile, for he continued to feel despair from the impending battle and for those who would go needlessly to their deaths.

She did not want to let on that she had heard his previous conversation with Aragorn, though his demeanor confirmed that he remained troubled; made worse now by speaking brashly to a friend.

"The odds are against us," he said carefully, looking at the weaponry lining the side walls.

"Yes, they are," she agreed, straightening her posture and feeling the wood of the bow with her fingers, then she spoke these words steadily, "Strength in time of darkness, courage in time of fear, death to those who oppose you."

Legolas looked at her confused.

She explained, "They are the words of my clan, the meaning of the markings on my back. No matter the odds, strength, courage…"

"Death," Legolas finished.

"But not your own," she added quickly with a small smile, "Not tonight." A moment later, Vezely held the bow up and said assuredly, "A bow is no use without arrows."

He felt somewhat reassured by her calmness; and he knew it was necessary to apologize to Aragorn. He could not enter this battle on bad terms with a close friend. He nodded to her statement, "The armory should be nearly empty by now," noting the far rooms had fallen silent as men were reporting to their battle stations, "But perhaps there will be some left."

She followed him to the armory's main keep to gather what arrows they could find. The room's contents had been considerably picked through and the weapons left were scattered to and fro. Handing her the bunch he collected, Legolas did not let go of them right away. He asked, slightly concerned about the power of Uruk-hai, "Do you have armor?" Having already added some light leather armor to his outfit and noticing Vezely had not. He knew he often treated his companions like children, and even if she was centuries older than the others, he felt just as responsible for her safety.

She was amused slightly by his concern, especially for someone so battle weary like herself. Vezely admittedly had not traveled with much armor from home, for not wanting to burden Gizik with unnecessary weight during their journey; although she did have a set of shoulder guards and gauntlets for her wrists, which she left in her rucksack in their temporary quarters. "I will need to retrieve them, though I have fought in considerably less," she said amused, causing him slight embarrassment, not knowing what she meant by less.

She made her way to their quarters where they previously mourned the supposed loss of Aragorn to find her rucksack still hidden under the cot. Legolas would go to find Aragorn and apologize for his abrupt words from earlier. After attaching the shoulder guards and gauntlets, she also retrieved a piece of coal and a small mirror from the same bag. While further defining the outlines of her eyes in black, a necessary Easterling practice before any battle, Vezely heard a horn blast from outside the walls, but the sound was definitely not from the head of an orc army; it was like no horn she had ever heard. She made her way down the stairwell and over to the main courtyard, witnessing an army of elves, cloaked in gray and holding long bows, entering the gate in perfect unison. Their captain, who greeted King Theodon as he stood shocked by their appearance, was a regal-looking blonde elf cloaked in red and armored in gold.

Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas had quickly rushed to meet Haldir; knowing the horn's sound all too well. Aragorn embraced the elf, as did Legolas, whose face exuded immense pride as he turned to stand with his kin in this new alliance of elves and men; his spirits were noticeably lifted.

Vezely apprehensively stayed back, preferring to witness this interaction from atop the steps. She had not seen so many elves since her short stopover in Mirkwood so long ago and she had never witnessed the unmatched precision of a marching elven army. They moved even more perfectly than Easterling militia did, she thought. She moved slowly down the steps towards them; she hoped to pass unnoticed but unavoidably drew movement and stares from soldiers who could not help but look upon her. The minor commotion caused Haldir's eyes to shift in her direction.

"Nwalmaer (tormented one)," the elf's face remained stoic and poised as he greeted Vezely by her elf-given name, one which the Blue Wizards acquainted her with and continue to call her by. He lightly placed the palm of his hand over his heart before bringing it forward. "I also bring greeting from Elrond. He welcomes home the taken child of Elured, blood of his blood."

Vezely had learned of her elven father's name from Morinehtar and Romestamo, but despite all attempts to remember her childhood before being taken by orcs, she could not. Her only remembrance was her mother's voice singing a song expressing sorrow for autumn's end. It haunted her dreams and she had only recently pieced together the lyric's meanings with her study of the language.

After a brief moment, she replied politely, "Elrond continues to be most kind," while placing a fist on her chest and tilting her head down to Haldir, an Easterling greeting. Noticeably the name of her cousin brought warmth to her heart, for it was Elrond who allowed her to be "home." Though she had never met him, she learned it was his great foresight that had him call upon the White Council to aid in her release from captivity at Dol Guldur and for the Blue Wizards to assist in her recovery. She considered him her protector from afar and the only reason she was given a second chance.

Neither Legolas, Aragorn, nor Gimli knew of Elrond's involvement, or even that Vezely was aware of who he was, yet the story would have to wait on account of the pending attack.

King Theodon commanded his troops to their posts, and Aragorn and Haldir stationed the elf bowmen to the Deeping Wall and the Deep behind it.

"Vez," Theodon yelled amidst the movement, "You fight aside me."

Vezely nodded in affirmation to Theodon, who turned to make his way to atop the main gate. She was unsure of his reasoning to have her nearby, for she had expected to be stationed on the Deeping Wall with her companions. Aragorn suspected having Vezely by his side provided some historical resonance for Theodon and could prompt morale for his troops - the awe of him commanding an infamous historical figured perhaps.

"Keep their archers steady," Aragorn said to her assuredly, bringing a hand to her side arm in a gesture of confidence, though it also held the possibility of farewell.

"Perched high and pretty," Gimli joked, "We'll try to save some for you lass."

Vezely responded with a jovial smile, "I am not good at waiting for a fight." She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a brief grip.

Her face became more serious when she turned to Legolas, who looked at her intensely, "Not your own," he said, repeating a line she shared with him in the armory earlier.

Vezely instantly replied with the same seriousness, "Not tonight." They locked eyes for a moment longer, exchanging a longing to have more conversations, to get to know each other better than these few days allowed. It was strange that such pure longings could occur amongst two unlikely souls and during such dire times.

On her walk through the corridors and up the steps to the top of the main gate, Vezely mentally prepared herself for the battle. The air was damp and she could sense that rain was imminent. Fitting, she thought, as the night would simultaneously bring and wash away the blood.


	6. Defending the Deep

**Chapter 6 - Defending the Deep**

Reaching the king's station, Vezely nodded in deference to the king and quietly took her place next to Gamling. All eyes were fixed on the approaching Uruk-khai, a great black mass on the landscape. The sound of their footsteps and rustling of their armor grew louder with each passing moment. The surrounding soldiers were silent for the sight in front of them was surreal and many needed to remind themselves to continue breathing.

Vezely felt eager anticipation of the impending battle, her hand aching to swing her blade, her mind desiring to outpace and outmatch her opponents. As the crescendo of Uruk war cry overwhelmed the Deep, it was met with fear. She detested it, for Easterling militia such fear was not acceptable. Instead, her men would be producing an equally powerful presence. But she had to remind herself, most of these men had never seen war, had never held a weapon, or seen a man being violently killed.

The rain burst from the clouds above, soaking all and muffling the sound of the Uruk-khai with the splatters and dings of water hitting stone, shield, and flesh. Upon command, she stepped forward with her long bow, grateful she had chosen this weapon over the shorter versions, since her distance was considerably farther from target than where she thought she'd be positioned. She awaited Theodon's orders, while overhearing Aragorn cry orders in Elvish down below.

An older man below her released his arrow before the command, killing an Uruk and causing an angered roar from the horde, sending chills down the spines of the defenders in the Deep. They began charging the wall. Gamling cried out a resounding "Fire!"

As she continued to rain arrows, she noticed how each release increased in precision and speed, finding her remembrance of the weapon slowly return. But as the ladders began rising and Uruks poured over the Deeping Wall, her desire for hand-to-hand combat also increased.

A mass of shielded Uruks were encroaching on the gates below. "The gate, focus on the gate!" She cried down to the nearby bowmen, who promptly turned their attention that way. Aragorn followed her cries, turning some of his bowmen to the task.

At the Deeping Wall, the elves were holding back the incoming Uruks, who were being cut down one by one; many were meeting Gimli's axe before they had even descended the ladder.

Vezely overheard Theodon murmur, "Is this it? Is this all you can conjure, Saruman?"

If it was, surely the battle would be won, for they would be able to maintain a steady demolishing of Uruks, evening the odds for when they would inevitably breach the fortress.

But suddenly an explosion rocked the Deeping Wall, causing stone, dust, and flesh to blow meters into the sky only to come crashing down on those below. The shock wave traveled fast through the air, knocking other sounds away and throwing people on the Deeping Wall off their feet. The Uruks were only momentarily set back and it took a matter of seconds until they began filtering through the gaping hole left in the wall. Behind it the elves stationed as reserves regrouped to meet them, but their numbers were few compared to the mass of Uruks that stood beyond the gate.

The situation below had turned dire. "Permission to go below," Vez called to Theodon, who had remained stunned by the blast.

"Granted," he replied quietly.

Vezely took off for the closest entry to the warzone. At the same time, Uruks began battering the gates, snapping Theodon from his shock, "Brace the gates!"

The entire wall above the culvert was blown through, and the blast blew into the ground, causing water from the Deeping Stream to form a muddy lake that would soon be filled with bodies. The mass of Uruks charging through would meet Aragorn, Gimli, and a horde of elves. Legolas was also quick to join his friends down below, finding a shield to coast down the stairs on.

Her sword could easily manage the Uruks on the Deeping Wall before the blast site, but it was below that the flow of Uruks was heaviest and growing. Reaching the edge, Vezely gauged she could make a straight trajectory to the ground below. She sheathed her sword and grabbed two fallen elven blades. With one sword in each hand, she took a brief moment to gauge the right timing. Pointing the blades downward she leapt into the middle of a mass of Uruks, two of which she quickly dispersed per the swords in her hands. She softly landed in a lunging position, her boots and knee feeling the squish of the muddy pond that had formed. A split second later her sword had been unsheathed and she turned to skewer the oncoming Uruk behind her.

"Nice of you to drop in," Gimli joked, swinging his axe at an Uruk's gut.

"Like I said, I don't like waiting," Vez replied, smirking at the dwarf who enjoyed fighting as much as she did. She felt fully energized being in a thick of real battlefield where a steady flow of opponents offered her opportunity to practice her trade. She used her quickness to her advantage, for what Uruks gained in size and strength, they lacked in agility. Quickness and precision, for every blow she struck counted so much so that perhaps she was only elvish while fighting.

Regardless of the skills amassed on their side, the flow of Uruks was not going to slow. She crossed paths with Legolas, who had resorted to fighting with his two elven short blades. They nodded to each other upon first look; she was relieved he was also unharmed from the blast.

Vezely upped her kill count by finding moments between blows to hurl discarded weaponry at oncoming Uruks, testing her targeting skills by aiming at their face. A quick toss of one of her sais saved a elf bowman from being back knifed by a charging Uruk.

Close to being overwhelmed at the gates, Theodon ordered everyone back to the keep, to help defend it.

Aragorn hailed the orders in elvish to those in the Deep, "Am Marad!" (To the Keep!)

Vezely held out for a moment longer, as did Gimli, not wanting to give up the flow of flesh ready to meet their blades; though for the elves heeding the call they may have assumed their ignorance of Elvish.

"Gimli, Vezely, to the Keep!" Legolas yelled. Vezely began to move, but Gimli tenaciously charged back the other way adamant to keep fighting. If not for Legolas and another elf who started to drag him off, he would have certainly been overwhelmed as all defenders were quickly exiting the area.

The battlefield was being relocated to the keep's outer walls, as Uruks continued to encroach onto the fortress. Aragorn and Gimli relocated to the gates, Legolas and Vezely continued to fight on the walls along with the other elven fighters.

Huge ladders full of traveling Uruks were being catapulted to the walls where they fought. Legolas swiftly arrowed one's ropes sending it crashing down; for the others it was too late and a new stream of Uruks had a new path to the keep. Meanwhile, Aragorn and Gimli infiltrated the causeway, giving Theodon and his men enough time to reinforce the gates with wooden boards. Needing a way out, Legolas complied by throwing a rope from above them, planning to hoist them up.

"I have your back," Vezely said to him, knowing he didn't need help in terms of strength. She kept the area clear of any interference from Uruks, and gave a hand when pulling Gimli over. It was only moments after that Theodon called a retreat to the inner fortress where they would hastily brace the door from the battering ram of the Uruks.

"The fortress is taken, it is over," Theodon said dejected.

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it. They still defend it. They have died defending it," Aragorn cried back as the battering ram began slamming the door.

Legolas perched himself meters from the door, bow and arrow readied for any crack that would allow release to a target. Vez found two spears perched along the side wall and did the same.

Concerned for the women and children, Aragorn rested command from Theodon to send Gamling to have them leave through the mountain passage and to take men to barricade the entrance to provide them more time.

Then, another feat befitting his claim to Gondor's throne, Aragorn convinced Theodon to ride out and meet them, to a certain death.

Horses were brought from the side stables, Gizik among them.

Vezely ran her index finger along the black blood that soaked her sword and lined the ridge of her nose and horizontally marked a line under each eye, transforming her look into one more reminiscent of Haradrim fighters.

Speaking to Gizik in Easterling, she said, "Strength, Gizik," The horse responded to the intensity in her eyes, shaking her head and clacking her front hoof.

Legolas climbed his white stead aside her, looking upon Vez momentarily, oddly finding her presence reassuring in what could be their last charge on earth.

At the sound of the horn of Helm Hammerhand, the breaking of the doors, and Théoden's cry, "Forð Eorlingas!" the company road out onto the causeway, swords ready to quickly slash down the Uruks met along the way. Though it was not the causeway that concerned them; there they had the advantage of minimal resistance, for it could only accommodate so many Uruks. It was reaching the standing reserves that they would find the overwhelming numbers remaining.

The sun was rising, and slowly starting to creep over the Eastern Ridge. Seconds before the sun's appearance, there on the ridge's crest stood Gandalf upon Shadowfax, followed by a mass of Rohirrim who rained down the hill towards the Uruk-khai. The horde regrouped with pointed spears but were blinded by the rising sun and quickly cut into by the horsemen. The Uruks on the causeway, blinded and fearful, quickly turned from their prior task and fled with their company into the surrounding forest.

Vezely followed the other riders, filing into the line of Rohirrim who had just ascended the ridge; their armor and blades glinting in the bright light of the morning's sun.

Eomer, the king's nephew cried: "Stay out of the forest! Keep away from the trees!"

Horrible sounds of creeks and groans accompanied undulating sways of the foliage; the trees would finish what the fighters at Helm's Deep started.

Victory after almost certain defeat…the cheers from the Rohirrim filtered through the canyon and Theodon cried victory along with them. Aragorn kept a solid composure, as did Legolas and Gimli, and they each greeted Gandalf and expressed their gratitude for his arrival. Vezely did the same, and Gandalf gave her a knowing look, seeing she had indeed found the right moment to reveal her identity to Theodon.

They would ride their horses back up the causeway to the fortress where the women and children began pouring out from the mountain passageways into dawn's light with hopes of finding their loved ones among the living. The mass of people led to Vezely getting separated from her companions.

The Rohirrim riders, being less battle weary, immediately began the clean up, searching for any wounded and piling up bodies - Uruks for mass burning and elves and men for their respective burial practices.

Preferring not to be around wailing women, Vezely decided to look for her missing sais, which she had thrown during her fight in the Deep. During this time, Gimli had already found the perfect seat to smoke his pipe, perched atop one of his kills as if showing off an accomplishment; the Uruk had his axe embedded in its skull.

Legolas also went to the Deep in the hopes of querying Gimli about the final body count; the two were constantly competing with each other, mocking each other's kind as often as they could, and finding ways to make jokes at the other's expense. Vezely knew little of the quarrelsome history between dwarves and elves, but found herself amused by what seemed like an unlikely friendship.

She quietly paced through the broken bodies, turning them over with her muddied boots as needed. Soldiers were focusing on clearing the bodies of elves and men, leaving the Uruks for later.

Having exchanged numbers into the forties, and fleshing out the discrepancy of one, Gimli, noticing Vez in his periphery called, "Lass, how about yourself? What's your count?"

"I stopped counting long ago," she replied stoically, continuing to scan for her lost sais. Part of her looked almost solemn, a demeanor that would continue for some time after the battle. It was simply the culture of the Balchoth. A battle's completion required reflection, contemplation on lives lost and mistakes made for redress next time. Pacing another meter, she found it, lodged in the skull of an Uruk near the steps.

"She goes from cheer before certain death to solemn after victory, not easy to figure her out," Gimli mumbled quietly to Legolas, taking another puff of his pipe.

Legolas who had just been scanning his Galadhrim bow for any signs of wear, now had his eyes fixed on Vez. He watched bemused as she pulled her sais from the Uruk's head and inspected the mess on its blade. He was curious as well to her thoughts, wanting to unravel her complexity.

Gimli noticed his interest and chuckled, adding "Aye, you might want to figure her out though."

Legolas's eyes shifted and narrowed back onto his compatriot who smugly smoked his pipe. He could not easily deny it nor admit forthright to it. But before he could reply with an equally smarmy comment, Vez made her way over to the two, bloody sais in hand.

"I am still not use to the color," she said quietly, as she touched the black blood on her sais and observed it on her fingertips. She calmly smiled at both of them, breathing in the damp air and momentarily reflecting on the feeling to have fought amongst her former enemies, amongst honorable warriors. She did not consider herself one, however.

Legolas smiled for he could sense her reflection on these changes and there was some peace to her thoughts.

"Might as well get used it, there's plenty more to spill," Gimli added gruffly with a puff the smoke.

"How did that bow work out for you?" Legolas asked, slightly changing the topic from the unforeseeable future to the near past.

"More than adequate," she replied politely, "Gratitude again."

"An axe is always more than adequate," Gimli said proudly, "It's simplicity makes it reliable."

"I have not had the opportunity to fight with an axe," Vezely replied considering the weapon, as she started cleaning the blood from her sais with a rag, "But with the strength of these Uruk-khai, I can see the preference for a weapon that can create more force with its swing."

Gimli smiled proudly at her remark, noting that Legolas would never admit to such a truism.

"But with a bow, as long as you have constant precision, there are enough weak spots in their armor to take them out. I have not seen such precision and speed in a bowman before, as I saw in you," she added, while looking at Legolas admiringly.

Legolas had not expected the compliment and was on the verge of blushing, but Gimli interrupted, not satisfied that Legolas's compliment seemed better than his own, "And what do they call these weapons in the East?"

Vezely removed her admiring eyes from the elf back upon Gimli, "They are called sais," forgetting that sais were not a common weapon in West of Rhun, "They are good for hand-to-hand combat, for depending on how you hold it," she twirled the weapon between fighting stances effortlessly, "The hilt can be used as well as the blade." She quickly put it back into its holder on the side of her boot, and then added while gripping the handled of her sword, smiling, "But I will always be first and foremost a swordsman. The Easterling blade is slightly curved, as Elvish swords are," she briefly looked at Legolas for confirmation, "This one's a single edged blade. It requires precise footwork to avoid your opponent's weapon before quickly retaliating."

"Looks like elves and Easterlings like their fancy footwork," he said poking fun at them both.

"It is another skill weapon, unlike the axe which requires just brute force," Legolas added amused at the opportunity to smite him.

Gimli suddenly looked a bit angered at being ganged up on by two elves, but quickly started laughing, causing Legolas and Vez to crack up as well. "Elves," he blurted out, amongst his laugh.

"I admit to not knowing well the history of dwarves and elves," Vezely chimed in, "Perhaps someday you should each tell me your version of it and I will have a better sense of this rivalry."

"Aye, but don't believe anything the elf says," Gimli remarked quickly.

Vezely looked at Legolas, smiling and amused by Gimli's comment; for Legolas it was good to see her so. There was still life in her, and the light of his people even if it was dim. Instead of using this as an opportunity to retort Gimli's comment, Legolas said to her, "There are many stories that I could tell you and hope I get the opportunity to."

Gimli puffed his pipe, hoping his beard hid the smirk that had formed as he watched the elf prince profess such a heartfelt desire, one which made Vezely stall for a moment.

"I would like that," she said warmly before adding, "I would like to hear more about the stars, the first elves, about Elrond…" she started.

"How do you know Lord Elrond?" he asked curiously but with care, having remembered her response to Haldir's greeting.

"That is a story with few details," she replied calmly, "He knew of me though I knew nothing of him. I found out he sought Morinehtar and Romestamo about aiding in my release and recovery from Dol Guldur, so that I would not also be destroyed with it. I know I am related to him by blood, though I know nothing of my bloodline," she smiled slightly, "As you see, there is not much to tell."

"Your bloodline is legendary," Legolas added, wondering if she knew the story of the half-elven, if she had made that choice.

"Is it?" She replied unconcerned, "I can only assume so by acknowledgement of my relation. Though I am an unexpected addition," she said referring not only to the survival of her lost father, but to her role as Sauron's pawn.

"Yes, undoubtedly unexpected," Legolas replied considering.

Having finished his pipe weed, Gimli stood up from his Uruk throne and not to delicately dislodged his axe from its skull. "If you want unexpected, let me tell you of the time Legolas's father imprisoned my own, but do so from behind a hot bowl of stew," he took Vez by the arm to lead her out of the Deep, "They should have prepared some food by now," he said referring to the kitchen at the fortress.

Vezely smiled back at Legolas as he added, "You mean after he intruded upon my village?"

"I have done this myself," Vezely said to Gimli by her side, "It did not go well for me either."

Gimli laughed gruffly, "Ha, that's the hospitality of the elves. They don't even treat their own kindly!"

Entering the fortress, they came upon Gandalf and Aragorn holding council with the king and his nephew Eomer.

"I see you have discovered my minor secret," Gandalf spoke to Theodon in Vezely's presence. "I did not want to burden you with it at the time, but am grateful for your acceptance of her sword."

"She fought bravely for Rohan," Theodon added politely.

"And she will continue to do so," Gandalf added, "As long as you will have her."

Vezely nodded in deference to the King, as his nephew, Eomer, stood next to him, brows furled as he waited curiously for an explanation of this secret in the form of an elf woman warrior.

Theodon took notice to his nephew's confusion and their lack of an introduction, "Eomer, this is Vez of Rhun, known also as the slayer of Eorl the Young."

Eomer's eyes noticeably widened to this knowledge, finding it an impossible occurrence.

Vezely's appearance was perhaps even more fitting to her historical baggage, covered in dirt and painted in Uruk blood, she looked as one of Rohan would imagine. She respectively nodded to the horse master, noting his obvious physical relation to Eowyn.

"It's good you all are here," Gandalf said pleased, "We will be taking a riding party to visit Sarumon at Isengard. He is his own prisoner at Orthanc. Prepare to leave at noon."

Knowing there was little time to rest and with his stomach not interested in being detoured, especially when he could smell food cooking, Gimli took off, "Fine, as long as I get something to eat." Legolas would go to converse with Aragorn.

Vezely, on the other hand, was concerned, "Gandalf," she approached the white wizard apprehensively, trying to keep her voice low for fear of being overheard, "Are you sure it is wise that I go?" She was concerned about Saruman's power over the minds of others, that even in defeat he could still do damage.

Gandalf smiled at the young elf before him, "You need not to worry about Saruman playing with your mind, my dear. You have moved past such dangers." Vezely hoped he was right.

She noticed Eomer had his eye on her from across the room, yet unused to her presence. Eowyn would enter that moment, seeing Vezely for the first time since before the battle. Vezely smiled kindly at her, and Eowyn returned the smile, feeling slightly jealous that she also could not be covered in the blood and sweat of defending her loved ones.

"I kept my sword close," she said quietly after approaching Vezely.

Vezely smiled at her wanting to share her courage, replying, "You may yet yield it, the war is not over."

Eowyn nodded, and remained positive.

"Eowyn!" Eomer called over to her, his eyes full of suspicion of his sister's conversation with this harlot.

"Until later," she said politely, leaving her side to attend her brother.

Vez was not interested in eating, and instead returned outside, her eyes glancing at Legolas as she left perhaps unknowingly asking him to accompany her.

Legolas's eyes caught her glance and smiled to her through them; he watched her leave through the tall doors wondering if he should follow; it did not go unnoticed by Aragorn.

"Your eyes linger my friend," Aragorn said calmly, hoping afterwards that he had not misjudged and offended him.

Legolas smiled, slightly concerned for his own sake and embarrassed that Aragorn noticed. "They do," he said quietly, "Quite unexpectedly."

Aragorn smiled warmly, "It is a good thing, the unexpected."

"It can be," though Legolas wondered if such feelings were appropriate to have, considering the darker deeds of her past, and their future's uncertainty.

Sensing his encroaching doubt, he placed his hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes it is better to let your heart decide." He thought of his decision to try and call off his relationships with Arwen before leaving Rivendell, following his head, not his heart.

Legolas nodded, saying assuredly, "I will see you at noon then." He followed the young elf outside feeling both slightly elated and unsure by his decision to. He was simply curious, he told himself, nothing more.


	7. The Forest River

Thank you all for the reviews and critiques. I appreciate it! :)

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**Chapter 7 - The Forest River**

Vezely made her way to the upper ramparts of the fortress where the best view of the valley was laid out before her. The sun had dried the wet landscape, now indented with horse's hooves and littered with scraps of armor and discarded equipment from the battle. It was a view she was well accustomed to and while most would be reflecting on life, having survived against such staggering odds, her mind thought of its irrelevance. She knew the scale of the armies amassed in the East, and how the defeat of Sarumon's forces was simply a small chip struck from an immense quarry.

Following the young elf's path through the fortress's grounds, Legolas again queried his intentions. He could only piece together Vezely's history, from knowledge of the White Council's decision to aid in her release from captivity in Dol Guldur, though he knew not why that decision was made. The Blue Wizard's assisted in her recovery, but whether she was a willing participant of that aid remained unsaid. Even her role in the Eastern resistance and her relocation out West, along with the trust Gandalf placed in having her fight for Theodon, did not conclude the true nature of her charge. He quietly joined her side, his presence seeming to go unacknowledged as she was surveying the lands around them. Perhaps Gimli was right, he thought, he did desire to unravel her.

Keeping her eyes on the landscape, Vezely queried her thoughts. She was grateful the fair elf had followed her, for she desired to converse with him again, though she also felt apprehensive about providing more information on herself. Her detachment from the world began long before her imprisonment and had not subsided after. Though coming West had considerably upset these self-imposed boundaries, confronting her not only with tangible remnants of her past misdeeds, but with someone who encountered her before she changed sides. Living in the world of men, such confrontations could not take place for she was held captive well past their life age. She never had to confront the longevity of her own kin or deal with those she had personally wronged.

He allowed the silence to continue, and looked North towards his homeland, thinking again about the past. His father had foreseen this turn of events, telling him after Vezely departed his village that there was a reason their path had crossed without resolve. What reason they had met again eluded him.

"Your thoughts go to your homeland?" Vezely suddenly asked, breaking him from these thoughts.

"Yes, war has found its way there," he replied, though this was not why his eyes lingered there.

"And you are here?" she said curious as to why he remained in Rohan.

"My father sent me to Rivendell as a messenger for our people," he said resolutely, his eyes still on the landscape, "And I volunteered to represent them in what you now see remains of the fellowship. I stay to fight for my friends, and for the future of Middle Earth." Making this declaration seemed to remind him why he could not be home defending his people.

"But I heard the elves are leaving Middle Earth," Vezely was unsure of this rumor, for the East swam of them and despite appearing to be uninterested in those concerning elves, she always took note.

"It is true, our time here is ending," he began to explain. "They travel to the Undying Lands beyond the sea of Belegaer, where the leaves never fall and the daytime sky never grows dark from unpleasant weather. It cannot be reached by the ships of men," he then looked at her, for she had turned her eyes on him. They were filled with the same curiousness as the last time he spoke about the elves, "There they will spend the rest of the world's days in blissful existence."

Replying with a hint of skepticism, "And you stay?"

"I was born here, it is my home," he said proudly.

Vezely could not help but covet such resolve, and a part of her wished she could have the same feelings, but "home" was complicated.

"And I have not yet heard the call," he added a moment later.

"The call?" Vezely queried.

"Our time to leave these lands will be made known to us," he explained further, slightly surprised she had not known, "Until then, I have no desire to go from these shores."

Vezely considered all this information, wondering what place she had in this mass exodus. Would she ever be called, or would she be barred from entering such bliss and face endless wandering alone in Middle Earth or in death, be stuck in the Halls of Mandos where she could not pass to the lands of Valinor for her sins were too great. At least, the Blue Wizards warned her of such a fate. Whether she should care remained to be seen.

Sensing her inner queries, Legolas responded concerned, "Apologies, if I have caused you ill thoughts..."

She turned to him, and shook her head, realizing she had let her emotions seep through. Changing the subject back to him, "It is a noble quest, to stay, to fight for your friends, your homeland. It is to be envied to have such a charge."

He knew she was evading his concern; hoping she would share her thoughts so he could help ease her distress in some way, he asked carefully, "And why do you fight?"

She looked back out at the mountain tops, to the snow formed on the tops of the peaks, taking a moment to consider a question she still didn't readily know how to answer despite her years fighting for the resistance. Part of her did not want to answer while another part was compelled to. "I use to fight for my people," she spoke slowly, thinking through her words, "Then I fought for Sauron, as well as my own bloodlust. In the dungeons, my mind wandered from my body, and I found myself standing alone on a mountain top in snow that didn't melt beneath my bare feet. I couldn't fight. I couldn't do anything but painfully breathe the cold air and feel the burn of the ice below me. There was nothing…no home, no friends, only myself and the faces of those I had killed. I left Dol Guldur with nothing," she breathed deeply before beginning again, "The Blue Wizards said it took months to piece back together my mind. They then urged me to fight to redeem myself, to find purpose again."

She stopped her words, unsure whether to continue, but Legolas prompted her to, "And have you found it?" he asked searching her face from the side.

Vezely continued steadily, "Revenge was the only purpose I could find. I am not honest, good hearted, pure like you are, like elves are supposed to be. I can never erase my past, start over, or seek forgiveness from those who I have wronged. I do not deserve a higher reason to fight, to pretend I am good when I know I am not."

Legolas sensed the truth she held in her words, but it hid self-hate and hopelessness. Perhaps, he thought, this was her means of punishing herself for her past deeds by refusing to accept redemption under truer banners. "There is a reason why you are called Nwalmaer (tormented one)," he stated carefully.

She looked at him with serious eyes, admittedly knowing not the thoughts surrounding the title's creation.

"You were taken by orcs as a child, to be used by Sauron only to be locked away and forgotten. This fate was not your doing, nor could you have changed the course of such events. I know not your recent history, but the White Council would not have released you from Dol Guldur if they had thought you were beyond redemption," he said encouragingly, though his words were met with skepticism. "You are a child of the stars," he added slowly, "You do not need to reconcile your character with what you perceive to be the character of elves. You were not raised amongst us, but you are one of us."

Vezely turned her face away from him, fearful of the emotions his encouraging words were stirring inside her and whether they were discernible. While she has been told to accept her elvish roots, to have one of her own kind tell her this was new, for she had always assumed they would not accept her.

Realizing her inner turmoil, he gave her privacy by looking again past the desolate battle grounds of Helm's Deep to the North. He shared some brighter thoughts on his homeland, taking for granted the inherent connection elves have with nature, "I wish I could show you the Forest River in my homeland, take you to a brook whose water runs like a lullaby amongst the folded trees. In autumn, the leaves fall like soft rain, blanketing the floor in a collage of warm colors…"

Vezely began to remember the song her elvish mother sang, the Forest River's lullaby, the soft rain of autumn's leaves, all were lyrics. "As the birds hold their song to listen to the brook, they hear the wind calmly claim another leaf for the floor, autumn fades but the Forest River does not quiet its sweet voice…" She spoke the verses quietly in Elvish.

"You know of this song?" Legolas queried, surprised by her not only knowing the words, but speaking them fluently in his tongue,adding, "It is a Wood-elf lullaby, one known and sung to children in Northern Mirkwood."

"It came to me in the dream, from a voice I believe to be my elvish mother's. I knew not of its origin," she replied bewildered, her eyes still turned away to the landscape; she felt torn as she thought of how beautiful the place must be if it does in fact exist.

Legolas smiled warmly, for such a memory was a precious one to hold. Her mother was undoubtedly a Woodland elf and she held Sindarin and Silvan lineage as he did. He brought a hand softly to her cheek and guided her to face him, but she kept her eyes down, afraid to show him the tension this acknowledgement brought her. He waited a moment, eliciting her attention which she slowly gave him. "Those woods remain in you. You must accept it, or Sauron will have won."

She kept still for a moment longer, searching his eyes and breathing along with him, wondering why he gave her such kindness. She then smiled slightly, showing that these words touched her; a smile which he returned just as warmly. Speaking sincerely, "You have been an unexpected comfort, one I needed since passing the borders of Rhovanian to face this land I knew not how I belonged."

_Unexpected_, that word continued to come up amongst them. Legolas was comforted as well by the positive confirmation of his actions, for she could have just as easily rebuked him. He wondered again about what his father meant while looking at her, finding himself drawn into her gaze. He then replied to her truthfully, "It gives me peace to offer you comfort."

Her pleasant demeanor changed again to one of skepticism. Regretfully she removed her eyes from his. She placed both hands on the rampart in front of her, gripping it slightly to steady herself as if a means to better steady her thoughts and return her emotions inward. "I do not know what peace I could have given whilst burdening you with my dark thoughts in these already troubled times."

Hoping he didn't cause discomfort, he replied, "Your presence does not burden, nor do your thoughts offer trouble."

Vezely looked again upon the fair elf, who had also turned his eyes on the landscape. She wondered what lay behind his desire to console her, whether the odd feeling of affection was not only her own. Concerned she had spoken unkind, she blurted assuredly, "Good, then I will not worry about asking you to tell me more about our homeland, our kind." The use of the word _our_ felt strange but pleasant coming off her tongue.

Legolas smiled at her cheerful response, her saying of _our _sounded like music to his ears. Turning to her again, "I will gladly tell it."

For the next few hours, Legolas would recount the story of the first elves, the different factions throughout Middle Earth, and his own Woodland Realm, answering her astute questions as she had them, as she was connecting this information to similar tales she had heard in the East. Though he suspected it allowed her to evade discussing her past or for him to press her further on her present desires.

"…I am afraid what comes after will have to wait until next time," not having finished the history of the ruin of Doriath as it was time to regroup with the others, and to get ready to ride to Isengard. He hoped there would be a next time.

"And I will wait patiently," she replied sounding cheered, not only was she grateful for his storytelling but also to have another chance to hear him speak to her. His voice was the most beautiful one she had heard. She did not know if this was due to his elvish qualities, but it was terribly soothing to listen to.

Returning to the inner fortress, they parted ways with Vezely going to retrieve her rucksack and Legolas to do the same before regrouping with the others.

Passing through the inner ramparts, Legolas reflected on their conversation. She remained a curiosity for him, but one with a complexity, and opposing hardness and softness of character he found further intriguing. From their conversation, he could sense her desire to belong and he also longed for her to find her place in this world. Finding out she was born in the Woodland Realm was also a unique revelation and he lamented that the Woodland guard could not protect her parents or her from the encroachment of orcs, who constantly terrorized their people. His home woods had grown ever tenser since that time prompting many wood elves to leave these shores and those who stayed were forced to relocate their homes in the caverns built by his father. He knew not the war that raged there now, though he held hope that he would return in a time of peace. Perhaps she could also return there, he thought, to find her roots, to possibly remember what she lost so long ago. It was strange to meet an elf without knowledge of their origins, which for elves was an incredibly relevant to living their everyday. There was much she didn't know, and for some reason he felt obligated to teach her.

Finding a washroom first, Vezely removed the rings on her fingers, one by one, feeling the odd sensation of them leaving the skin that knew them well. The one she did not remove held the most meaning to her - the Balchoth leader ring, given to her on her father's death bed as it is tradition to pass on to the chosen clan leader through the ages. It was carved with a crude image of the sun, a symbol to represent the golden horde and the sun-given power used to blind their enemy with fear. She had retrieved it only recently on her trek over to the West, from the Balchoth's burial site, where the last of her clan was buried. She had decided to relinquish it after their defeat out West, when the numbers of Balchoth dwindled and disappeared. Instead of feeling the weight of failing her people, she instead submitted her will and purpose to Sauron, standing for noting outside of his desire. This ring reminded her of when she stood for something more. Regardless of the ill causes that brought her to Balchoth hands, she remained grateful for her parent's acceptance as a child. They treated her as their own and she assumed the role as leader gracefully as a true Balchoth, haven proven her strength and allegiance to her people and a desire to uphold their culture. The ring represented her past before Sauron; where she had a home and a purpose to fight.

She could not remember her elven parents, the full reasoning of such memory loss unknown. Yet today she discovered her connection to Northern Mirkwood, a place she once entered without acknowledgement of it. Legolas had offered her this knowledge kindly, providing her reasons to embrace her blood and not to be ashamed in doing so. Why he accepted her, and showed her such kindness, she did not know, though she tried not to question it or the feelings he was stirring inside her.

After drying her face, she finely lined her eyes with charcoal, replaced her rings, and loosely wrapped her black scarf over her head to prepare for riding. She left for the stables to tend to Gizik, passing Eomer on the way. He had the same displeased look on his face as when they first met each other. She nodded to him, a gesture he returned civilly, though she could sense he distrusted her.

Patting her nose, she spoke softly to her horse in Easterling, "Gizik, you are enjoying stable life, aren't you?" As she prepared her for riding, she spoke about the future journey, and about other unexpected occurrences, as if confiding in an old friend who could understand and commiserate.

Legolas came to retrieve the Rohirrim horse that he and Gimli would ride, finding Vezely speaking an unfamiliar tongue.

"You are close," he said pleasantly.

"She has taken me through many worthy adventures. I consider her a friend," Vezely smiled not only for these memories but also to see the fair elf again.

Legolas patted the horse on the nose and spoke several words to her in Elvish, causing her ears to perk up and listen carefully. From what Vezely could translate, he thanked her horse for the companionship she offered, and asked her to keep her rider safe so that such worries did not cloud his thoughts.

Noticing her following his speech he asked curiously, "Have you tried speaking to her in Elvish?"

Vezely shook her head, "My pronunciation is not correct for I have only studied Elvish words recently from books. And I do not know if they were correct in their translations to begin with."

"We shall practice," he said to her in Elvish.

"Practice?" Vezely repeated the Elvish word and after a short moment of thought, "I will try."

"But we should not speak so too often in front of the others," Legolas said, and added with false seriousness, "For we do not want to bring about thoughts of an elf conspiracy."

Amused by the thought, she asked, "And what could we conspire to?" still in Elvish, though slightly off rhythm.

"I am sure the dwarf could answer that," he replied, noting his friend's penchant for seeing all elves as problematic.

She could not help but laugh, for Gimli amused her just as much. They continued to chat as they walked their horses side by side from the stables to where a small band of riders was amassing to leave. Her Elvish was not perfect, though it was more a matter of grammar over vocabulary.

Aragorn and Gimli noted the two elves' jovial manner and their looks of affection as they walked with their horses trailing behind them.

"They seem friendly," Aragorn noted quietly to Gimli.

"Surprising, seeming that one wanted to pierce an arrow into the other not too long ago," Gimli replied gruffly, but admittedly pleased by the changed experience of the two.

Along with Gandalf, Theodon, Eomer, and Gamling, the band departed Helms Deep and crossed through the surrounding valleys, at times following the same tracks left by the Uruk-khai army that marched that way just prior. The ride was not overly burdensome and the weather mild; all were grateful that the rain had not returned a second night.

It was not until they entered the winding paths of Fangorn that foul thoughts clouded their determination.


	8. Of Rhun's Deserts and Dorwinion Wine

A longer chapter in thanks to all my new followers and those that came before. :)

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**Chapter 8 - Of Rhun's Deserts and Dorwinion Wine**

Vezely sensed the forest's age when she stood on its borders awaiting Gandalf and his companions. Entering it, ill thoughts of her time in Mirkword resurfaced and unsettled her. She had not been raised to understand her Elven senses or utilize them properly, so her judgment of nature was not always sound.

"It's those talking trees again," Gimli mumbled, sounding miffed.

She looked at Gimli slightly surprised, adding quietly, "Foul thoughts of Mirkwood cloud my mind," for she could not deny her uneasiness.

"They do not mean us harm this time. For they have released much of their anger on the orcs," Legolas replied reassuringly, his own ears attending to their words. "The elves taught them to talk long ago." Then speaking to Vezely in Elvish, "Listen carefully and you can hear them."

She calmed her mind and let her hearing decipher the exchanges, finding that perhaps the chatter was not as hostile as she assumed. He watched as she adjusted her senses, grateful when her uneasiness melted away.

"Yes, I hear them now," she said in contemplation, but in the common tongue, conscious that Gimli was there.

Legolas noted what he assumed was a slight apprehension of speaking Elvish in front of the others, reminding him of his determination to have her use it more often. Despite his mind forbidding him to look too far ahead, the possibility of her staying West after the war did cross his mind. An ability to speak Elvish would be an asset to her feeling welcome, he thought, an asset he needed to assist if possible. Why he felt such an obligation or protective he didn't query for currently his interest was in exploring the forest as they marched through it and he wished the trail would not end. "If only I had more time to linger here to understand their thoughts," he said further attending to their chatter.

"And I to linger in the caves of Helm's Deep," Gimli replied assuredly, "For there is an endless pilgrimage worth having!"

"And I would give gold to be excused," Legolas said uninterested, "And double to be let out if strayed in."

"You know not what you speak!" Gimli said determined, "Your father may have built fair halls in Mirkwood, but they are mere hovels compared to these. Endless halls, chamber after chamber, stairs after stairs going straight into the heart of the mountain. There you can hear an everlasting music of water, see gems and crystals brighter than Kheled-zaram in starlight. For their riches are beyond desire to mine, they are to glimpse and marvel and wonder at…"

Legolas had not heard Gimli speak as such before, "You move me, for I almost regret not seeing them. Perhaps we will have the good fortune to return here, that we may be delivered safe from war and together journey both wood and cave, exploring the wonders that move us."

"Aye, I may endure Fangorn if the caves are also to be shared," he agreed warmly, setting to such a promise. A moment later he asked, "And there must be marvels unknown to us in Rhun. Come lass, tell us of a place worth such exploration."

Vezely who had been touched by their conversation, was caught without a certain answer. "If I had the choice, I would not be closed in a dark cave or strangled by the humid woods of Fangorn," she said considering how each felt too close to her time her captivity. "In Rhun, there are deserts that stretch beyond elvish eyesight, expanses of sand and parched riverbeds, of dust and dirt that cannot be tilled; a land barren, a wasteland. There even the sun repels the earth, forming waves at eyelevel. The only sound is of wind traveling and gravel turning over itself…"

Legolas and Gimli listened intrigued, unaware that such a landscape existed; though each were unsure why it would warrant exploration for the young elf. "If there is nothing there," Gimli queried, "Why desire to take such a journey?"

Vezely wondered, thinking back to why she took such a path the year following her captivity, having decided to leave the care of the Blue Wizards in order to reorder her memories. She continued after a moment of thought, "It is free of desire. A land unwanted by all those who live in Middle Earth, and thus it allows you to journey through nothing but your own thoughts."

"You speak from experience," Legolas said carefully.

She smiled slightly, "I do. But its wonders are not just its ability to reorder thoughts. You can find life living there amongst the barrenness, surviving on not more than is needed. Life where you think there is none. I saw flowers of hues brighter than any cloth yet dyed. They grow on plants of thorns and spikes. Strange, aged creatures live under rocks and earth, surfacing only to be warmed by the sun. To me, seeing this is worth more than gazing at jewels or listening to trees."

"And if safely you emerge from this war, you would return to this land barren but of life?" Gimli asked curious.

"Unlikely, I will go where my sword is needed," Vezely said assuredly, holding no thoughts of a future of peace where she could roam without care, "Such a place never needs to see war."

"Ah, but you assume the end of this war will only breed more war," Gimli queried her belief.

"Yes, for if this war ends well in the West, the East will not be at peace," she replied forthrightly, knowing what factions remain will not resettle quietly.

Legolas furthered considered her words, reading into them and gaining another slice of her past and her future hopes; but if hopes they were he wasn't sure. Before the conversation continued, light filtered through the dark in front of them. Seen in the distance was the flooded tower of Orthanc, but it sat beyond the destruction of rows of trees hacked down to feed its once burning fires. Isengard's factories were no more. They continued on slowly, wading their horses through the knee deep water to the crumbled gates, finding two jovial hobbits smoking long pipes.

"Welcome my Lords…to Isengard!" the one greeted proudly, standing up.

This caused Gimli to rebuke gruffly but amused, "You young rascals! A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!"

Vezely noticed the wide smile on Aragorn's face and realized these two were part of their fellowship.

The one sitting seemed even more inebriated by the leaf and added, "We are sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is _particularly_ good."

"Salted pork?" Gimli inquired, his stomach practically growling the words.

"Hobbits," Gandalf laughed amused.

"We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard," the first one stated; a sense of pride flaring in his chest.

Vezely had never seen hobbits before, though she knew of them in her past for having studied the peopled lands of Middle Earth for potential places of conquest. They were non-hostiles, farmers mostly, who kept to themselves.

The two introduced themselves to the unknowns in the group as they jumped onto the backs of Aragorn's and Eomer's horse. Merry and Pippin, they preferred to be called. They seemed unfazed when introduced to King Theodon of Rohan, for they themselves were lords of Isengard, or perhaps they were just tipsy from the pipe weed. Vezely introduced herself as Vez and they were somewhat surprised to see a woman among the crew. "My lady," Pippin said tipping his pipe to her, which amused her enough to give him a small smile, much to his delight.

They continued foreword and were greeted by Treebeard, an Ent, the likes of which none had seen. "Young master Gandalf, I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower."

The group stirred a bit uncomfortably and Vezely adjusted her headscarf to further cover her face for fear of catching the wizard's eye.

"Show yourself," Aragorn said bravely.

"Be careful. Even in defeat Saruman is dangerous," Gandalf warned.

Gimli added impatiently, "Then let's just have his head and be done with it."

"No, we need him alive. We need him to talk," Gandalf replied back sternly.

A voice called out from above, and Saruman slowly came into view, standing on the top of the tower. All heads looked up to see him leaning on his scepter. His voice carried gracefully down to them, "You have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden king, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take council together, as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Théoden responded softly at first, "We shall have peace," but then took a more defiant stand, "We shall have peace… when you answer for the burning of the Westfold, and the children that lie dead there. We shall have peace, when the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows… we shall have peace."

Vezely felt it could be her that those words were spoken to, having committed the same crimes centuries past. Her armies descended on these lands, destroying settlements, killing all who stood in their way. She did not show mercy to those whose lives she took, as Theodon showed to her at Helm's Deep.

Despite Gandalf's plea for information, giving Saruman a chance to start to make amends, the old wizard had something to bargain with. From his robes he pulled out a slate black orb, which appeared to contain a glowing red ember in the middle of it. It was a Palintir, a seeing and communication device. Vezely had seen a Palintir before, for she was also once deep in the enemy's council and knew well of their uses. Gandalf moved Shadowfax forward, away from the group, perhaps trying to deflect attention to himself.

"…You're all going to die," Sarumon added malevolently, "But you know this don't you, Gandalf," the wizard sneered at Aragorn, "You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king…"

Vezely felt oddly understanding of the wizard's current position, for in the past, if pressed into a corner would she be willing to admit defeat while carrying the weight of Sauron's orders on her back? Does she not also harbor doubts to the success of the West's plans against the armies of the East?

Saruman then added insult to members of the fellowship, referring to the Halfling who was making his way to Mordor. "…The path that you have set him on can only lead to death."

Angered, Gimli prodded Legolas to shoot him, but Gandalf desired mercy, only to be rebuked by a fireball from his staff. The flames engulfed Gandalf and Shadowfax, both of which reappeared unscathed. The wizard's eyes moved to Vezely momentarily, as if assessing another move.

"Saruman," Gandalf's voice ascended, turning his attention, "Your staff is broken." Saruman's staff shattered in his hand.

Grima Wormtongue then appeared on the tower, only to be batted down by the wizard after Theodon's attempt to coax him free. Still hoping to draw information, Gandalf called, "Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's council. Tell us what you know!"

"You withdraw your guard, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here," he called in his last bargaining chip, but before Gandalf could command, Grima had stabbed Sarumon in the back twice. Hoping to defer death of the wizard before such information could be obtained, Legolas quickly fired an arrow into Grima. But to no effect, Saruman fell off the tower to be impaled by the spoke of a large water wheel before them.

Gandalf spoke assuredly to Theodon, "Send word to all our allies, and to every corner of Middle-Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike."

Treebeard began to speak of the washing away of Saruman and the coming of young trees, as the wheel turned Saruman's body under the water, an act which released the Palantir from the wizard's robes. The young hobbit, Pippin, quickly jumped off of Aragorn's horse to retrieve the fallen orb, much to the worry of Gandalf who commanded he give it to him. Observing Gandalf quickly cover it up in his robe reminded Vezely of its dangerousness; she often wondered where the others existed and who they serviced.

The strangeness of the situation - the failed attempt of getting more solid information, the fall of Saruman at the hand of Grima - all made for an uneasy departure from Isengaurd. Yet before they moved in the same direction they had entered, the young hobbits insisted on grabbing some of the food and pipe weed from the tower's kitchen to go, much to the pleasure of Gimli.

Along with the others, Vezely dismounted her horse and waded through the shin deep water in order to browse the kitchen's pantry. She found a closed door which led to a wine cellar; she opened it slowly, finding some resistance from the debris which had lodged underneath it. Inside was a long corridor of shelves lined with glass wine bottles and jugs hailing from lands throughout Middle Earth. She walked down it, stopping in front of a section of Dorwinion wine, from a land on the northwestern shores of the Sea of Rhun. Being an all too common sight in Rhun and in her recent life; these bottles stirred Vezely's memory.

* * *

_"You can drown your thoughts all you want, but that doesn't mean they won't resurface," the old wizard said with conviction after he opened the small den's sliding door to find Vezely seated at a low table, her legs crossed below her and elbows propped upon it. A Dorwinion wine bottle sat empty nearby while plates of food sat untouched. It was the Blue Wizard Romestano's home, where Vezely was a guest after her release from Dol Guldur._

_She simply turned her eyes away, unconcerned. She appeared languid and frail, her skin lacking any healthy glow, her hair long and still knotted in parts. She had not been out of captivity but for a few months and looked to still be sick with plague._

_The wizard took a seat across from her, having brought a freshly brewed pot of tea from the kitchen. He overturned two small cups and poured them each with the hot green liquid. "And if you don't eat, you'll never get your strength up to fight."_

_Suddenly her eyes went to his, "You would have me fight?"_

_He smirked, knowing he struck a chord, "You continue to assume we released you only to deliver another punishment."_

_This was precisely what Vezely assumed. She believed it was only a matter of time until she was called upon to face her past crimes; that these wizards would take her West where the so-called "free peoples" reigned and give her over to men, or worse yet, Elves, who would undoubtedly have her head. She did not speak, only searched his face with her eyes which then glazed back to being void of emotions._

_"We would see you commit to higher purpose," Romestano added, after taking a sip of the hot tea. "But such purpose we cannot dictate. You must forge your own path in this land now marred by Shadow, where there are yet fights to be had."_

_ "You would have me fight for the resistance," she said slightly perturbed, "You might as well just hand me over to my former enemies."_

_Romestano smirked at her sarcasm, for it showed life yet stirred in her. He considered her jest before replying, "You will someday willingly find yourself in their midst and you will ask for forgiveness and perhaps, they will forgive you. But only if you move on from here."_

_"And you assume I'd seek forgiveness?" She asked mockingly, shifting in her seat and taking the empty wine bottle in her hand, wishing more of its liquid lay inside._

_"The light of the Eldar has not yet abandoned you," he smiled undeterred by her mood, "You know not of your ancestry or what brought you to Rhun, in time it will make more sense, you'll see. Now," he pushed the bowl of rice towards her, "If you desire ever to hold a sword in your hand again, eat…"_

* * *

"Ah, you've hit gold you have!" Merry called from the doorway, breaking Vezely from these thoughts; he had found the door ajar and popped in to take a look.

Pippin was quick to follow, "Oh, what do we have here?"

"If it's anything like the wizard's taste in pipe weed, we are in luck," Merry added, wading through the water towards her.

Vezely smiled at the Halflings who exuded an airiness she was not use to. "There must be at least three-hundred bottles in here," she said to them calmly, having pushed her prior thoughts away.

"And here I am without a wagon," Merry said with feigned seriousness, stopping in front of her.

"Yes, but you've got two hands and a few pockets," Pippin added.

"Indeed," Merry replied nodding, "Any recommendations?" he asked Vez.

Vezely pulled one Dowinion wine bottle from the shelf, brushing the dust from its glass to view its year. "Here," she handed it to him casually, "Something close to where I came from."

Merry inspected it as if an expert, "Very good year," he mused, causing Vezely to give him an amused look. He pulled two more off the shelf before leaving with his arms full.

"I'll also take one of those, and this one, oh, and this one too," Pippin said confidently, grabbing another Dorwinion bottle and others as he left.

Vezely did not grab one for herself; she had become dependent on it after her captivity and preferred not to be reminded of its taste or its ability to remove her from her troubles.

"Ah, I see you've found the wine," Vezely heard Gandalf exclaim to the hobbits before she exited the cellar.

Leaving the cellar, Vezely found Legolas conversing with Treebeard, exclaiming his desire and bargain to return to Fangorn with Gimli, which the Ent took concern to due to dwarves being axe-bearers. "I have good will to Elves, and any Elf that comes with you is welcome. But you ask much. This is a strange friendship!"

Vezely noted how cheered and proud Legolas appeared when discussing this friendship, for it must be rare for even an Ent took notice. She watched him from afar, before noting Eomer's eyes lingering on her momentarily.

Eomer, who stood aside his uncle, asked him quietly, "Are you sure this woman can be trusted?"

"She would have allowed me to take her life if I thought not," he said remembering the situation at Helm's Deep. "The past is always entwined with the future. I believe as Gandalf that she has some role to play." He then placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder, looking into his eyes seriously, "Keep an eye on her if it settles you, but know I hold greater concerns."

Unexpectedly the forests of Fangorn provided a welcomed atmosphere for Vezely, for Saurman's words and her memories in the cellar hit too close to home. They would ride swiftly to Edoras, stopping only momentarily along the way for food and a few hours rest, the latter found quickly by the two hobbits who had finished a bottle of Dorwinion wine and with still being slightly intoxicated from pipe weed, they needed to sleep it off.

Theodon had been mildly injured at Helm's Deep and took the respite to address his wounds which began a group conversation on battle scars. Vezely listened to the conversation as she quietly honed her sais, feeling the rhythm to be soothing and wanting to appear busy in order to avoid sharing in the conversation.

"…Elves of course do not scar, thus you cannot prove such valor," Gimli mocked, taking a jibe at Legolas in order to make his story of being wounded seem grander.

"How is it that Vez came to lose an ear then?" Theodon asked a question the others would not have, for fear of providing insult to injury. But Theodon did not have such reservations or reserved politeness for someone he had already shown much to.

Stopping mid-hone, Vezely smirked slightly before looking up to answer this query, for it was a story that still held much contempt. The momentary silence made the atmosphere uncomfortable, but Theodon did not remove his gaze or rescind his question.

Gandalf intervened cautiously, "Only if Vez would like to tell it," sensing this could tread into delicate territory for the young elf.

"She should," Theodon insisted unconcerned, "For it must be an interesting story, one which such a calm night would welcome."

She finally replied; her tone trying to appear removed from the incident, "My second in command took it upon usurping power."

"Usurping?" Theodon queried.

"He did not challenge me for the title. Instead, Sauron shifted power to him, turning my army against me. One against an army is not fair odds," she added with obvious contempt in her voice.

Theodon's eyes narrowed, for he did not fully grasp from her explanation this system of leadership. "Explain what you mean by challenge."

"Men of the East do not follow a leader simply because his father tells them to," she replied coolly, knowingly taking a subtle blow to the West's system of rulership. "Leaders are often challenged if deemed weak."

"You would not mean a fight to the death?" Eomer interrupted perturbed, but slightly amused if it were true, since for him it would prove their barbarity.

She shifted her eyes to his, replying as if unfazed by his reaction, "That is what I mean," causing one of Eomer's eyebrows to cock up.

"And you have been challenged before?" Theodon added, curious of this form of leadership so different than his own.

She slowly rolled up her sleeve, displaying a row of downward cast arrows tattooed on her upper arm, each line representing a challenger. "Many times," Vezely replied resolute, "First, for not being Balchoth by blood, despite being raised as one and being passed the title. The transition period after my father's death…was trying," these thoughts bothered her slightly, then she spoke assuredly, "Despite Sauron's endorsement, I had to prove my strength."

"A fight to the death is not to be taken lightly," Gimli added, considering such contests.

"It is not," Vezely replied sincerely, "These markings will forever be etched in my skin; the challengers will not be forgotten."

Eomer then asked intrigued, "And are these matches weapons based?"

Vezely wondered if she should divulge for fear of appearing more culturally removed, "It is the challenger's choice of the weapon, which may appear as an advantage. Leaders, however, are expected to be skilled in all weaponry. Or, if they wanted to be more interesting, no weapons."

"To kill a man with your bare hands, few are provided such an opportunity anymore," Theodon wondered aloud of such a task.

Vezely eyes met his, showing that she agreed with his unfortunate assertion.

"And have been close to defeat?" Aragorn suddenly joined the conversation, finding himself between remorse and interest.

"I have. But the scars to prove such did not stay. When I was newly appointed leader, my father's younger brother challenged me. He had more experience in battle and smartly chose a scythe, a weapon I had little feel for. It was the closest I came to losing," she remembered the tense situation carefully, "The title should have been his if not for Sauron's interference. He was one of the few unconvinced by the dark lord's offer and predicted it would lead to the death of his people," she said slightly disturbed in how it came true. "But I do not feel remorse for such deeds, or for the men whose lives I took in these fights," she said resolutely, "For it is custom, and remains accepted by those who rule that they can and should be challenged. It is what the West would deem barbaric, is it not?" She looked around at her companions who were unsure of what to say, her eyes stopping on Theodon.

"It is the method of changing leadership that is barbaric," he replied, holding his composure.

"Though seemingly appropriate for a warrior clan," Gandalf intervened casually.

"Perhaps," Theodon agreed considering, "And what became of this usurper who robbed you of your ear?"

She shifted uncomfortably, for rumors of this man's longevity and terror continued to plague the East, though his continued existence could not be fully confirmed or even possible for a mortal. Such unconfirmed information need not be shared, she thought. Her reply did display her bitterness to the deed, however. "He probably died in glorious battle leading the army I built. I never got to repay him the honor he bestowed upon me."

"Yet you still wear the Balchoth ring," Gandalf noted the ring carved with the Rhunic character for sun on her finger.

Vezely smiled slightly at the wizard's keen perception, "I would not have retrieved it so recently, yet it holds sentimental value of a time when my life was not dictated by Sauron, a time when there was some reason for my existence. A fleeting time, perhaps."

"Vez does not give herself enough credit," Gandalf replied kindly, "For Sauron to shift power, you had to have disappointed him in some way."

She returned the query with a look of skepticism before Gandalf continued. "You refused to kill innocent woman and children, despite orders. Sauron was not pleased, and your restraint suggested to the White Council that you were not lost."

Vezely's eyes shifted away from him. This was not something she thought well of herself for; for yes, she refused to wipe entire villages from the map as the years went by, but it did not mean she hadn't been responsible for equal devastation beforehand or that her blade was not stained with innocent's blood. She never wanted to admit that a change in judgment answered for her replacement and imprisonment, or proved she now deserved mercy from her former enemies.

Gandalf continued, "Sauron passed leadership to one easier to control and you unfortunately were discarded. It would have been a similar fate for Saruman; he did desire equal power for himself, but Sauron would not have shared it. A puppet only, once you disobey, no more. Even in defeat, Sarumon's allegiance was strong, but fear also took him. You were not as such," he smiled at her, though she did not meet his smile with her eyes which remained locked on the ground in front of her. "If that ring reminds you of more honorable times, then it should stay with you. We can all use remembrance of nobler times. For Vez, it is not found in old wounds."

She looked upon Gandalf at last, and smiled warmly back at the old wizard who had an affectionate way of phrasing his words about her. Like the Blue Wizards, he admittedly was fond of the young elf and her brazenness; she was a rarity and a rare story, one not easily forgotten in his long life of many acquaintances. And she was one whose tragedy he fully desired to be amended.

But Eomer remained skeptical of such tidings, "And you wore that ring to the Battle of the Wold?"

"I did," Vez replied quietly, "But its conference of leadership is not the sentimentality it brings, nor does it serve to bring back memories of such events. Its meaning is personal," she stopped, not wanting to share anymore.

"Yet it can appear as if honoring the horde that raged destruction on our lands," he said with feigned civility, "To a continued desire for leadership. That is how I see it."

Legolas's eyes narrowed on Eomer, "It is of no such meaning," he stated tempered by the accusation, for he did not like this horse master's play with words, currently or prior upon their first meeting.

Vezely calmly intervened, "Those days are long gone, the Balchoth are destroyed…" she hesitated how to continue, "This ring is all I have left of the ones who raised me, but if it offers offense," she removed it from her finger and held it towards him, "Take it. I am weary of being challenged for it."

Eomer did not retrieve the ring, nor return words. Instead Aragorn put his hand up, "No one here intends to offend the other," he looked at Eomer, then to other members of the group. "Whatever history we hold we must continue into the future together under mended circumstances. Vezely fights for Rohan, for Middle Earth. Her charge today need not be questioned."

She removed her eyes from Eomer as he replied, "Fair enough. I do not seek to detach you from a mere trinket."

Vezely closed her hand around her ring; grateful for the validation her companions had given her, but feeling uncomfortable still, she quietly stood up and left the group, nodding to Aragorn and Legolas in gratitude before leaving.

While Legolas desired to follow her, Gandalf had already made a motion to go. He found her in introspective thought.

"Memories run deep," the old wizard said coming to her side, hoping to console her.

"I do not blame his distrust," she said calmly, "For trusting myself is hard at times."

"Says all you have once strayed down the wrong path," he stated pleasantly, "You were perceptive to believe Saruman might see your presence as a tactic, but I do not believe he would have succeeded in turning your mind if given the chance. Sauron failed and you today stand as a testament to that."

"You credit my story far too much," she said skeptically.

"And you far too little," he responded quickly, and then slowly added his reasoning, "You stand as proof that darkness can be rescinded, that what is good can be built back from the ruins because that good does not leave in the first place." He placed a hand softly on her shoulder, "I ask that you continue to fight by Rohan's side in this war and you will regain what you lost, and you will feel whole again."

"Mithrandir," she called to him as he walked away, "Thank you."


	9. Assumptions

**Chapter 9 - Assumptions**

The others in the camp settled down for a few hours rest, with plans to continue to Edoras at dawn. Vezely moved to higher ground, to a rolling hill's rocky outcropping; an all too common feature of Rohan's landscape. There, like a sentinel on watch, stood Legolas, leaning on his Galadhrim bow, looking out onto the fires of Mordor, which illuminated the sky in the East. He had been contemplating the information exchanged prior, continuing to piece together the young elf's past while trying to unravel her in the present. He acknowledged that the culture of the Easterlings was far removed from his own, that Vezely was hardened by it, but somehow it also gave her purpose. The complexity that lay behind her strong façade would continue to confound as well as intrigue him.

She took her place by his side, finding his presence reassuring, calming. Speaking to him in Elvish and also fixing her eyes on the horizon, she said, "I appreciate your defense before."

He smiled, for he was glad to hear her words in his tongue, "Eomer spoke rashly on matters he knew not."

"And you defended me on matters you know not," she said carefully, not wanting to appear any less ungrateful.

He turned again to face her, finding concern in her eyes, saying nothing so she would continue. "I remain grateful, but as my past is laid bare, do not assume I am innocent of deeds that I only later came to question."

"Such assumptions I would not make," he replied steadily, noting perhaps she didn't want him accidentally thinking better of her than she desired. He added wondering, "You believe Gandalf's favor is misguided."

"He strains a metaphor for hope," she spoke as if talking to the wind, "As did the Blue Wizards. I am Sauron's experiment that failed, as if I had no sentient role in the choices I made. My minor defiance to Sauron's commands seemed undeserving of both his punishment, and further undeserving of the kindness on the part of those who saved me."

"I remember quite clearly," he began, wanting to steer the direction of the conversation slightly, "Something you said upon leaving my village. '_Mirkwood will someday be overrun, but not by your armies_.' Even then you were not without moral compass."

Vezely thought back, yes, she had said that. She was surprised he was thinking of that time. She straightened her posture. "The Balchoth were ruthless, but not necessarily without a sense of honor, a warrior's honor. But I lost that honor over the years."

"Tell me, about the ones who raised you. About the cherished memories that ring bring you," despite Legolas's desire to know more about the darker parts of her past, he also hoped to hear joy in her words and not allow her to dwell on anymore dim thoughts this night.

Vezely smiled warmly at the request, for she had not often spoken of those times or been requested to share them. She moved to find a place to sit down; an outcropping in front of a large stone to rest her back on. Her eyes and pleasant demeanor encouraged him to follow. Though he preferred to stand, he was obliged to accompany her. He laid down his bow on the grass in front of them, and lightly rested his back against the cold surface of the rock beside her.

She smiled at him as he sat, thinking of where to start, what to tell, and knowing she could never be as good a tale giver as he. "As you know, I was given to the rulers of the Balchoth to raise as their own under orders of Sauron, who they had sworn allegiance to. I was to be trained in their ways, as an elite warrior, prepared to assume leadership of their clan, and from this their people were promised aid in their claim to the lands across Rhovanion. I was young, not yet able to ride a horse properly, and very quiet, and needed adjustment. But despite my awkwardness, they always treated me as their own. Their former child had died and I like to believe I filled the void that was left.

My mother, Kuzu, was fearless and the best rider of the Balchoth. I learned everything I know about riding from her, but I still do not think my skills surpass hers. She loved to tell me fanciful tales of dragons and exotic chiefs in mythic lands, and would do so every evening before I pretended to sleep. My nights were spent inventing stories of myself partaking in these adventures. And my father, Yumruk, was an extremely stern man of little words, but I could always make him smile. Each winter we would forge blades together, and through those days of fire, water, and smoke I learned lessons on how to rule. Regardless of the fact that I was a task and a promise given to them by Sauron, they cared for me deeply. It was a time I knew not who I was outside of my clan, and Sauron had not yet revealed his plans for me. The world was small and I was focused on being a good daughter, a good warrior. My blood was not a concern until the years continued to pass..." She stopped speaking momentarily, not sure how to continue, for the thoughts of her family aging and dying saddened her.

Legolas knew the reason for her staled speech, "To live amongst mortals is not easy for elves," he said consolingly, knowing well the pain left by friends lost and for those currently he could not bear to think of losing. "Yet their memory lives on in you, as that ring stays in the sun," he added optimistically.

Her sadness dissipated with his words; they were exactly what she needed to hear. "Yes, they do," she then looked at her ring to treasure the memories it held.

Legolas then added, "The thoughts of your childhood warm me, for I had assumed you only experienced hardship and pain."

She understood this must have been a common assumption, for she was a child forcefully taken and given to what most perceived was a ruthless clan of barbarians. "Most do, for the Balchoth hold this reputation. Do not get me wrong, it is one well earned and they would not have been allied with Sauron otherwise," she smiled slightly before continuing, "Few know that Sauron requested a male child brought to him. The orcs brought me instead. I would have been killed if not for my parent's insistence of my worth," she said proudly. "I also hold no memories of my life before, of my Elvish parents, or the base deed that took me from their arms and placed me in another's. Though I often wondered of such an existence in your kingdom, if that is indeed where I am from. Please tell me about your youth, comfort me with your memories so I do not continually burden you with the darkness that mine lead to."

"I already said, you provide no burden," he replied earnestly, and though he desired to know more of her life, he could not easily deny her sincere request. "I can tell you of my first century, when Mirkwood was calmer than it is now…" He spoke of his mother, who had already crossed into the Utter West, his father and the trials of ruling his kingdom before the changes that happened since the arrival of Sauron. Vezely listened charmed by his voice and presence, the thought of an Elvish existence, the beauty of living amongst the nature of the forest, all seemed blissful to her. Despite facing the distant fires of Mordor, dark thoughts of their present situation did not enter her mind or the conversation.

At one moment, Vezely rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as he spoke of the first journey he had taken to Rivendell, where he would spend time studying about the people of Middle Earth and their history. His heart beat quickened slightly at her touch. He felt her warmth seep into him and smelled her scent, a subtle mix of cinnamon and sweet cloves. The move was her initiation, for prior he had been the one to break the boundary between them, and he was unsure whether it made her uncomfortable.

"…I can tell you of the first time I met Lord Elrond, or perhaps," she shifted slightly and turned her head towards him, but his head had also been turned, causing a closeness they had not yet experienced. Their lips were mere inches apart, their eyes parallel, and they could feel the lightness of each other's breath mingling in the air in front of them. For a moment time stopped. Then realizing she had foolishly let herself break such boundaries by resting her head on his shoulder, that she was taken in by his presence and his voice enough to let her guard down completely, Vezely quickly moved her face away from his and sat back up.

"Perhaps we should rest our minds," he said politely after, hoping to mitigate her discomfort.

"I am not weary," she added quickly as it was often her mantra, "But it could not hurt to rest."

She had brought her knees closer to her chest, embracing them with her arms and resting her head on top of them. She faced away from him, closing her eyes, and unexpectedly found sleep easy.

Legolas looked over her hunched form; she suddenly appeared weak and fragile to him. He thought of her imprisonment, how she must have looked in her cell, trapped in and without comfort. He was reminded of Gandalf's warning to not pity her, for she would detest it, though he was uncertain if it was entirely pity that moved him. As she drifted off, Legolas inched slightly closer to her, and gently guided her body towards him. She did not rebel against his careful changing of her position and he allowed her to take the same position as before, resting her head on his shoulder. He would then lightly rest his own head on top of hers. Closing his eyes, the world suddenly felt calmer, as if the fires of Mordor were only a distant memory and invisible the distance.

* * *

Dawn broke through the camp, emerging the travelers from their sleep. Legolas heard the commotion first and awoke in the same position. He slowly tilted his head up and breathed in the crisp morning air. His subtle movements however, did not stir Vezely, which surprised him and he wondered when the last time was she rested. He didn't have the heart to wake her immediately, and he selfishly enjoyed being close to her a moment longer.

A rumbling groan suddenly came from the camp. Gimli emerged from his sleep feeling a pressing headache from over smoking the night before, an intolerance noted merrily by the two hobbits who felt better because of the sleep Longbottom leaf had brought.

Vez stirred immediately and her right hand reached for the hilt of her blade though it was missing, all before realizing she sat close to Legolas and that his arm was around her back.

"'Quel amrun (good morning)," he said softly.

Bewildered by being startled, and in such a position, she replied with her eyes wide and slightly blushed, "'Quel amrun."

"My heart would linger here a little longer," he said quietly, "But we should prepare to leave with the others." He slowly stood, offering his hand to her, and she took it while contemplating his words, allowing him to help propel her to her feet. They stood for a moment facing each other, hands still clasped in front of them, and their eyes affectionate but they stood uncertain of the other's thoughts which in turn confused their own. They walked towards the camp side by side, before leaving each other's company in eyes distance, an act noted by Aragorn who observed them when their figures first emerged.

Vezely whistled for Gizik, who quickly came to her side.

Legolas greeted Aragorn in Elvish, and he smiled knowingly at him, stating quietly as he walked by his side, "The night was kind to you, my friend."

Legolas smile proved this true, though he was still admittedly uncertain of his feelings

Walking Gizik towards the gear, Merry spotted her elven ears, covered under her headscarf the day prior.

"You're an elf!" he proclaimed excitedly and wide-eyed, causing Pippin to turn and greet her with a similar expression.

"And you're a hobbit," she said with candor.

"I thought you were from the East?" Pippin queried confused, rounding by her side.

"I am from the East," she replied looking down at him.

"You're an elf from the East then," Pippin stated forthrightly.

"Something like that," she said, slightly amused by his remark. Perhaps she was just in a good mood from the evening's rest, but she continued the conversation, "You know, you are the first hobbits I have met."

"Is that so?" Merry said proudly.

"And how old are you?" Pippin blurted out, causing Merry to hit him on the side arm.

She cracked another smile before replying, "I am younger than most elves," for this was true considering those who have been around since the Elder Days.

"You look young," Pippin added hastily, "Even for an elf. I mean, not that I've met many elves, but you seem younger than most."

She grabbed her rucksack from the ground and attached it to her horse's saddle. While doing this she looked at him skeptically, wondering if it was a good idea to allow him to continue.

"Pip, age isn't always proper to question a lady on," Merry whispered to his friend.

Stopping his conversation, "Sorry, meant no offense!" Pippin stated embarrassed.

"None taken, I am not like most ladies," she said bluntly, having just adjusted her sword to her belt, and clicking its blade into its sheath. She mounted Gizik swiftly, and smirked at them once more while wrapping her scarf around her head.

"A fact well noted," Merry declared in slight awe of a warrior elf woman.

Clicking Gizik into gear, she rode swiftly up onto the rocky outcropping to look out at the valley below. "The West is not what I expected, Gizik," she said in Easterling, patting her on the neck, "Not what I expected at all."

The others would join her shortly and they would make haste back to Edoras, where Eowyn would await them, having accompanied the soldiers and villagers back home. That evening they would honor the lives lost in battle.

* * *

"Back to where we were," Gimli stated, upon entering the same quarters they had spent their first night in Edoras, "Still cold and drafty."

"Looks preferable to sleeping on an Ent root," Pippin stated optimistically.

Instead of settling in, Vezely quietly removed herself to the outdoor veranda, desiring to give the group their space. Their bond was strong, for before they had spent a trying journey together as the fellowship, continually tested and having dealt with the loss of their companions. She did not begrudge them this time to reconnect and bond again after being apart. Although, another part of her felt hesitant of being around Legolas after the prior evening.

She positioned herself cross-legged on the ground, her back against a pillar. The view was breathtaking, the expanses of Rohan stretched before her, and the cool, crisp air filled her lungs as it rushed up the mountain side below. She faced West, so the far sky was not occluded by the smoke of Mordor's fires. Moments of silence passed and she simply breathed in the landscape, noting the sound of the travelling winds and the dust they carried along. She had brought along a small tattered book with her; one with Easterling text scrawled through its once empty pages. It was her own writing. The book was a gift from the Blue Wizards who told her to write down her memories as she had them, for her mind was displaced during her captivity and she would find thoughts flooding in and should set a space for them in its pages to reflect. She had not turned the pages for some time, but felt oddly compelled to do so now. She found lines she had written on her time in Mirkwood: the small company of Balchoth who died in the ambush, the Elves she fought and killed, the wounds that afflicted her. She wrote of the woodland caves she found herself healed in and the king who spoke kindly to her. She read through her words in order to take her mind back to that time:

_"I awoke in immaculate quarters, cleaned and dressed in a long gown of cream fabric and of exceeding comfort. My weapons and gear were nowhere to be found, however. I did not know at the time my exit strategy, or my bearings for that matter. I only knew I must have survived the confrontation and undoubtedly remained in Northern Mirkwood among the Elves; the thought of their race concerned me for I am their blood but know them not. I aided my men in killing the ten who attacked us. I provoked it, for I had not heeded their warning to turn around and ordered my men to attack. They were fierce bowmen who quickly dispatched many in my troop from the high ground. Arrows shot on us as we scrambled to find cover, where I remained quietly, luring them to come closer before prompting my men to attack. Yes, I remembered suddenly as I awoke. The arrow that pierced my leg, my difficulty breathing as my lung collapsed from a knife taken in a fight with the last of them. My horse must have transported me to their city. _

_I was a prisoner, though I wore no bonds of captivity. But how could I be anything else? I found the door strangely unlocked, though I knew not what it opened to. I slowly opened it, finding an empty room of equal size and sparsely furnished. Someone had been there recently for I found an empty plate and dining utensils left on a table next to an open book with script I did not understand. I quickly took the knife, for its point could still serve purpose. There were windows on the far side of this room, with curtains that blocked my view from the light streaming in from outside. My bare feet walked swiftly to the window's side, I peered out them realizing I was above ground but underground; a system of caves where terraces and bridges were carved and built throughout - the likes of which I never thought possible. I jumped out the window to the veranda; my feet finding polished stone and no handrail to hold one from the drop below. I stayed towards the wall and move silently to the corner, unsure what lied beyond. Peering around I saw a staircase which connected to another terrace; a fuller view revealed it as a city of connected fleets. I grew discontent, for I wanted nothing but to be on the ground. My unfounded fear of heights became apparent. And besides that, I saw little possibility of navigating each fleet without being seen. One at a time, I thought, though not a strategy it was the only way down. I used the knife to remove much of the cream gown's length, for it would do nothing but slow down my escape. My bare legs and feet caught a breeze, the direction of which I did not know, but it prompted me to run down the first flight of stairs to the side of the building it housed. I peered in the window; there was someone inside, an Elf-woman in light blue robes reading. Then three others entered, all male, tall and with bows and quivers attached to their backs; one had a staff. They were speaking in a tongue I did not understand. The woman made a motion to lead them to the upper fleet, where I should have been._

_Two followed, but the third remained, problematizing my desire to go beyond. He faced the front doorway, which provided access to the veranda that attached to the next stairway. I decided to confront him, for it was only a matter of time before the three were made aware of my absence and returned. I quickly jumped in the open window, startling the Elf as he turned to swing his bow at me. I ducked and quickly kicked his foot from under him, sending him to the ground. He attempted to get up but found my elbow crashing down on his head while doing so, knocking him unconscious. The knife remained in my hand but I left him as such, feeling no need to slit his throat. Unfortunately the three others were aware of my absence and were returning. There was no time to race down the stairs unseen, so I stayed hidden by the doorway's side. The two Elves rushed in first, quickly going to their fallen companion, leaving the woman my victim. I quickly grabbed her, interlocking her arms behind her and pressing the knife to her throat. My back was toward the wall for I feared giving any others a clear advantage behind me. _

_The bowman quickly has his arrow in position. He was fair of skin, with golden hair and piercing blue eyes that exuded an intensity I could not soon forget. The slightly older elf, also with golden hair, but longer, and with similar features, motioned his hands, asking all to remain calm. He spoke softly but sternly, first in Elvish and then in Westron, "We do not want quarrel." _

_I smiled mischievously before narrowing my eyes on him. My words were angered, "I will give you quarrel if I am not released." To prove I meant it, I pressed the knife into the woman's neck drawing a small amount blood and causing her distress, but my grip was too strong for her to move from it. The archer stretched his bowstring further back._

_"Your wounds are healed," the Elf said to me cautiously, "We can allow you leave, but not if you take another's life."_

_"Who are you?" I asked, but not changing my stance or releasing my grip._

_"I am King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, this is my son, Legolas, and the young woman you hold is Rayne, a healer without whom you would not have survived."_

_I felt slightly uncomfortable with acknowledging them aiding my recovery, but I could not think of his statement of releasing me as anything other than a lie. I hissed cockily, "And why, King, would you release me?"_

_"You are Elf-kind," he replied quickly as if that in itself was a good reason._

_I laugh unconvinced, "Elf-kind?" Then I added proudly, "I am a Balchoth. I am not your kind of Elf."_

_Thranduil came slightly closer, so I tightened my grip much to the dismay of the woman I held. "You are one of us," his serious eyes were fixed on mine, "Taken from your home and put on a path of Shadow. And you must leave this place now. If you ever long to return, it is by another route not yet laid out for you."_

_For a moment my heart stopped, I swallowed what spit I had in my mouth. His words haunted me and for some reason, I could not question their validity. "Release her, and we will allow you to follow this destiny," he added as I considered my actions. _

_I slowly released my grip and kicked the woman forward, sending her to her knees. The knife remained in my hand for a moment longer as I awaited the archer to release the tension on his string. My eyes narrowed on his and we communicated our anger and distrust. Thranduil helped the young woman to her feet before asking his son to stand down, after which I reluctantly handed the knife to the king._

_"Come, we will take you to your belongings," he motioned to bring his hand to my shoulder, but was smart not to touch me. I followed him down multiple platforms to the ground below; his son followed me close behind. I turned once and searched his face, letting him know I would keep my ears attuned to sense any mal move. On the descent I took in the sight of the Elven city, a magnificent cave that didn't end. Light streamed in from unseen sources, illuminating the artistry of its carvings. The thought of perfection crossed my mind and troubled me._

_Once out the entrance, my horse had been brought with my weapons and gear attached to its bridle. Thranduil took the reins, but before handing them to me, he spoke steadily, "You are hereby banished from these lands Vezely of the Balchoth, return and you will face certain death." I nodded in acceptance of what to me was an empty threat, considering the forces planning to be amassed in the East. I quickly jumped upon my horse, my bare legs and feet finding the leather easier to grip._

_I looked one last time on the city's entrance before departing and on the Elven king and his son, whose intense eyes did not fade. For some reason, I knew I would remember them as I write this now. Before departing, I stated as a matter of fact, "Mirkwood will be overrun, but not by my armies." I rode out of there into the forest, focused on more pressing matters; my people and the fate of their settlement in Calenardhon. I stopped momentarily that night, finding water and food in my pack, plain bread wrapped in leaves. I was hesitant to eat it, but found it nourishing after just a small amount. Northern Mirkwood never became part of my desired invasion list; I would leave it to Sauron's orc armies._

_The only other occurrence left unexplained is a dream I had after falling unconscious from my wounds. I write this after for I remain unsure if it was a broken memory from somewhere else. I remember standing in a shallow tide on a beach, the warm ocean water soaked up to my ankles, a blurred forest glen stretched out before the sand. I heard a beautiful voice singing in what I deduce is Elvish tongue and I felt as if it was my blood mother's. I have no proof, only a feeling."_

Scrawled on the same page was the phonetics of the Elvish she had heard, which she would attempt to translate many years later as she learned the language. Also on the page, scrawled sideways in the margins, was a short Balchoth proverb she learned as a child, which reading again now held different layers of meaning. She began to recite quietly to the wind, "The land stretches on, set your foot on it, make it your home, but do not stray from the warrior's path or forget the home you came from."

"What does it mean?" Aragorn said behind her, having come out for a quick smoke and hearing her speak lyrically to the wind in a foreign tongue.

"It's about remembering home after one leaves it or makes another," she replied still in thought, as Aragorn leaned on the pillar beside her. "I wrote it down here and I do not know why."

Aragorn looked briefly at the Rhunic scrawlings in her book; its pages were full and they looked to have been turned frequently.

She looked up to him, taking herself away from her thoughts to ask, "You have been East?"

"Some time ago I crossed the Rhovanion," he said pleasantly.

"As a ranger?" she queried.

He nodded, allowing her to continue. "I encountered a band of rangers once on a campaign in the Iron Hills. The meeting was tense but it did not end in bloodshed," she remembered, clutching her book slightly, and then she added admiringly, "It is a noble charge, protecting those without want of recognition or reward. A better leader," she added, "is always one who does not want the title."

"You are perceptive," he remarked. As of lately his thoughts of being something more were troubling him, worries Vezely noted in his demeanor.

"I do not overly concern myself with the West's strategy, for it is not my place to be privy to such information," she replied steadily, "But I am relieved that such plans involve you, even if you are reluctant of them."

He smiled humbly, "We may both understand displacement."

"I do not think you are displaced. Your heart appears settled," Vezely remarked kindly, noting the jewel that continuously hung from his neck with her eyes.

"That it is," he was warmed thinking of the truth of this statement.

She looked back out on the landscape, "Attachment is a weakness, I would tell myself. Maybe it is a stabilizing force."

"Love is a powerful force, perhaps the most powerful," he answered, affirming this to himself as well.

Vezely further considered this, "The Balchoth in me would say the only real power is at the end of a sword," she smirked, "But perhaps I can entertain such a thought without disgust."

Aragorn noted her sarcasm with a brief smile, amused she was not moved by romantic notions as most elves were. Then he asked curiously, "What else is written in this book?"

"Mostly memories I had pieced together after my captivity. I have not looked at them for some time," she replied after closing it, "It is both a luxury and curse to remember."

"I cannot disagree, but every moment makes us who we are today," he said encouragingly.

While Vezely considered this statement, Eowyn approached them, and Aragorn greeted her politely, "My lady."

"Welcome back Lord Aragorn," she said to him courteously, "I have come to speak with Vez," prompting Aragorn to politely nod to both of them before leaving, and Vezely stood to greet her.

"Welcome back. You will join the evening's festivities?" Eowyn asked of her attendance at the banquet that night.

"If invitation is given, though I understand if it is not," she said humbly.

"You are welcome," Eowyn said adamantly, "And I would like to give you a place to wash up, for you cannot very much do so around the men."

This was unfortunately true, though not due to qualms of modesty on her part. "That would be most kind," she replied; it was hard to deny that she needed a bath.

"…You said both women and men fight in the Easterling militia, does it not create similar concerns," Eowyn asked as they walked, curious of this integrated fighting culture.

"On certain campaigns, yes. But often women and men are segregated," she replied, adding further explanation, "I wish I could say that women are considered men's equals in the East, but that fight is still not won. The East is made up of a vast array of cultures, each with their own beliefs and viewpoints. While the Balchoth had no qualms with a woman leading them, others are not so easily swayed."

"I see," Eowyn said somewhat disappointed, stopping in front of a door.

Vezely continued optimistically, "I am partly named after Vezena, an Easterling warrior who led her people to victory in the First Age. That such legends of women exist in Rhun and are told to young children, that means something."

"It is encouraging," Eowyn considered her own people's myths which had sparse to none female heroines. Opening the door, she led Vez to her personal quarters and to the washroom which had a large sunk-in tub, "The water will be warm," Eowyn said walking in, "Feel free to use what amenities you need. And I'd be happy to have your clothes laundered and sewn as well."

Vezely looked around at the rich comfort presented before her, unsure how to react. She spoke wholeheartedly, "You do not need to offer me your own quarters."

Undeterred, Eowyn handed her one of her own dresses, "I want to," she said proudly, for Eowyn admittedly admired the warrior woman, feeling she understood her desires to fight while seemingly no one else did. She knew it may have been a minor defiance on her part to offer such favors to her considering her past, but she did not care. "I will have Gleda, my hand maiden, retrieve your clothes soon. In the meantime, you may wear this and stay here as long as you like."

"You are overly generous, Eowyn," Vezely replied, her eyes showing surprise, sincerity, and appreciation before she left, closing the door behind her. Vezely had not soaked in a hot bath since the days before her imprisonment at Dol Guldur, when she had commanded an army and could enjoy the spoils of leadership. The thought of such a comfort laid before her made her tear up slightly.

* * *

_**A/N: Please take a moment to review now or later as you hopefully keep reading. I would love to hear your thoughts. Thank you!**_


	10. Dressed Up with Doubts

Apologies if this chapter seems Vez-centric (even if my story is OC centered) - I am trying for more character development. And for those worried about the pace of the relationship, no worries, I am slowing it down (you will see!). I do take all comments and critiques to heart with writing this so if there's something you like or dislike please let me know. Cheers!

**Chapter 10 - Dressed Up with Doubts**

After removing all of her rings, Vezely washed her sullied face and scrubbed her hands with lavender scented soap in a wash basin, taking extra time to remove the dirt that had accumulated under her fingernails. After removing her boots and slipping out of her garments, she took slow steps towards the tub, her skin feeling the cool air, her bare feet feeling the chill of the stone floor beneath, each ready to meet the warmth of the water prepared for her. She closed her eyes as her body became submersed in the hot, soothing liquid; sitting down, it rose up to her shoulders. A single tear fell from her eye; when she felt it on her cheek, she quickly wiped it away feeling such emotion was childish. _It is only a warm bath_, she thought, _you should not have missed it_.

Of course, she was lying to herself. It was not just the bath that was making her emotional. It was everything else. Crossing the borders of Rhovanion was a trying appointment and not her decision, but the Blue Wizards', and it was a task they tried to prepare her for beforehand – though they were unsuccessful in recovering her childhood memories, they encouraged her to learn Elvish and constantly reminded her, much to her discontent, that she had kin in the West. _Kin_, _who were these kin?_ She constantly wondered, a_nd why would Lord Elrond convince the White Council to aid in her release or find her worthy of inclusion? _

She did not easily come to terms with her Elvish decent, having no memories of her blood parents to guide her back or other known connections to move her. Nor did she feel that she belonged in Rhun, where she no longer held any position of power or people to call her own. This self-imposed displacement came with the recognition that while captivity changed her, it did not necessary reinvent her. She may have been Sauron's experiment, an attempt to corrupt a member of an enemy race, but she also willingly participated in his plans. She seemed more angered by her captivity than by her role leading campaigns to build the Easterling army. As a member of the resistance, she assumed the part of mercenary for the love of battle and for the sake of revenge, not claiming any greater purpose than being a willing sword. "I will fight for you," she told the Blue Wizards upon her return from reordering her thoughts in the deserts of Rhun, "But do not think it is because of the kindness of my blood or that I think you have a chance of winning." To live and die by the sword, taking on a warriors trade and setting out on the tasks of intercepting transmissions and hijacking army supply routes, made the past years straightforward and relieved her from confronting any internal discrepancies.

As her mind wandered through her past - years of war mongering, the darkness of captivity, and a few years fighting for the other side - she realized that coming closer to her homeland stirred exactly what she hoped to avoid, a desire to belong. Then there was Legolas, for he had furthered her acknowledgement of her connection to her kin beyond what the Blue Wizards could have hoped for. She knew she had let her guard down around him, conversing with him on topics she could not freely discuss with others. But spending the evening close to his side left her uncertain of her emotions or his. She feared he pitied her, an emotion she could not accept. For she easily accepted others hatred, fear, and disgust, but empathy, she detested. It made her feel weak; he made her feel weak, the West made her feel weak. Currently she could not escape her past, and she could not escape her kin. Yet she knew not how to reconcile either, or, as the Blue Wizard's desired, to seek some form of redemption.

A small knock on the door broke her from her thoughts, "Yes," she called, assuming correctly it was Gleda to take her garments to launder. Before leaving, the older woman cheerfully asked if she needed anything else and Vezely shook her head.

She would spend enough time in the tub that the water grew cool, though even then she did not want to remove herself. After she toweled off, she hesitantly put on the dress Eowyn gave her. It was a simple dress, but not one worn by a commoner – the first layer was made of cream linen, fitted at the arms with long sleeves that flowed into flared cuffs that hung down slightly over her wrists; on top was a burgundy velvet gown with a v-cut neckline. Dresses were not something she would choose to wear; impractical for riding, fighting, and in her belief, living. Even with no imminent fight ahead, she had to resist the urge to cut the length or put slits in the skirt for the sake of allowing her legs more movement.

Entering the bed chambers, she went to view her reflection in a large mirror on the wall. She had not taken in her full image in awhile, never being particularly concerned with presenting a pleasant appearance. She felt the beauty gifted to her by her blood often undermined her credibility. Stepping closer to the glass, she looked at herself sternly, for in it she saw a person she did not recognize. Her body had not been this clean in ages. Her skin was pale and flawless, and with no black coal lining her eyes, she looked younger. The cinched waist and skirt gave her a womanly figure, the v-cut elongated her neckline, and the fabric's drape and flow provided her the appearance of grace. Her eyes narrowed, and then she murmured to herself, "I would not be taken seriously like this," thinking of herself in the past and uncertain of what it meant in the present.

A hard knock at the door turned her attention, but before she could answer it, Eomer had barged in looking for her sister but finding Vezely instead - though a very different version of her. He was taken back by her gentler appearance, for not covered in dirt or clad in battle gear, she looked approachable, and dare if he thought beautiful. But not yet satisfied to reconcile her past and present self, he queried sternly, "Where is my sister?"

"I do not know," Vezely stated honestly before standing aside, allowing him free entrance for he would do as she expected - not believing her words he would search the few rooms to make sure she wasn't there or, considering what he knew about Vez, harmed.

He returned to the doorway, and gave Vez a brief but strict glance before departing. Though at that time, Eowyn had come back with Gleda.

"Eomer?" Eowyn said surprised to see her brother in the hallway.

"I was looking for you…" Eomer conversed with Eowyn in the hallway while Vez waited, slightly amused at the man's previous discomfort.

Gleda had brought Vezely's boots, though sans her garments, which would hopefully be dried by the winds before the gathering.

"I am sorry about my brother. He is not always the politest of beings," Eowyn greeted Vez apologetically after Eomer left.

"Not to worry," Vezely replied unconcerned, hoping not to linger on the subject or make Eowyn feel she should worry, "Thank you again for such comforts. I do not remember the last time I had a proper bath."

"I am glad I could provide them," Eowyn smiled warmly, noting her Elvish beauty for which a dress, even if not of Elvish refinery, complimented. "I was going to go to have something to eat, your company would be most welcome..."

...Vezely followed Eowyn into the great hall, which was yet empty except for her companions who were also enjoying a small meal. She was not overly keen at being seen in such a garment but could not avoid it now.

All of them had washed and removed their battle armor, and were now lounging in chairs around a great table sparsely adorned with plates of food and enjoying a conversation. With their backs to her, she saw Gimli and Aragorn were smoking their pipes, Legolas stood nearby in his usual sentient manner, while Gandalf was enjoying something to drink. Eowyn was acknowledged first and she greeted them, though Vezely went unnoticed until Gimli choked on his smoke, causing her eyes to narrow on him. Legolas's eyes went wide, while Aragorn smiled and Gandalf smirked out of amusement. The hobbits, who were on the other end of the table, looked equally amused, though not knowing Vezely well enough their amusement came more from their companion's reactions.

Realizing the dress was causing the fuss she expected it would, she intervened. "Before you say anything regarding my attire," Vezely chastised, peering malevolently at each of them, "Know I have killed men for far lesser offenses."

Gimli could not help but start cracking up, which Gandalf added to with a boisterous laugh. Aragorn chuckled while a wide smile formed on Legolas's face. Eowyn and the hobbits looked somewhat bemused by all this.

Her stern-face loosened considerably after she sat down, though she kept her arms crossed to appear stern. She was seated across from where Legolas stood; he could not help but observe how different she looked without her eyes lined in black, without dirt in her hair, and how her youth radiated through her clean skin.

"A dress is, as Vez might know, a powerful weapon, not to be taken lightly," Gandalf added after the laughter died down, giving Vezely a knowing eye.

Vezely suspected what he might be referring, though slightly surprised that he brought it up.

"I have heard from correspondences that you hijacked a Corsair sailing ship and diverted their fleet single handed and without blood," he said, having been alerted on her accomplishments from the Blue Wizards - a letter written and sent West to the White Council for proof of her recovery and worth of her release.

"We needed money for weapons, I helped obtained it," Vezely said nonchalantly; though it was a decisive mission that proved her allegiance, for the resistance did not easily take to her joining their side.

"Indeed," Gandalf replied amused, tapping his nose.

"Now there is a story worth hearing and a dress worth knowing about!" Gimli added intrigued.

Vezely's eyes narrowed on the dwarf, "The Corsairs are well-known for having a weakness in the fairer sex. They would not have allowed me to board dressed in battle gear."

"And just by wearing a dress?" Eowyn interrupted also curious.

"Well, it was not a dress such as this," Vez replied loosening her stern look; not expecting to have to relay such a story. "I posed as an Umbarian dancing girl. Their services are very expensive, but captains pay it."

"An Umbarian dancing girl?" Gimli shook his head disbelievingly.

"Oh, so you must be good at dancing?" Pippin queried, trying to follow along.

Vezely smiled slightly at this innocence, which Merry, the wiser of the two, added sarcastically, "I don't think it's that sort of dancing Pip."

Before allowing any to assume embarrassment on her part of playing such a role, "Umbarian dancing girls are expensive courtesans. Corsairs are predictable, getting their wine and women from the same place in each port. So, I tainted their liquor supply before they brought it aboard and made sure I was the captain's choice girl. The morning after they had not known what hit them, but their ships had been diverted to our docks and their hauls had been cleared."

"Pirate Vezely," Aragorn tipped his pipe to her.

Vezely smirked before adding, "But Gandalf, it was not necessarily bloodless, I did break the captain's nose before knocking him unconscious."

"Oh dear," Gandalf murmured and followed it with a good laugh.

Legolas was a bit surprised by her actions, even though impressive to have carried out such a feat, an elf would have never done so in such a debauched manner. Of course, she was not like most elves.

"My uncle Dwalin traded with the Corsairs of Umbar on occasion," Gimli added, proudly relaying information about his family, "All outlaws and brigands he would say."

Vezely had taken an apple and knife from the table and began eating it by slicing bits off. Somehow having a knife in her hand made her feel more comfortable in the garments she was wearing. "Those titles are well deserved. Your uncle must have been the wiser for they would sooner slit your throat than bargain a fair deal. And unfortunately their trade grows under Sauron's graces. Their eyes have been set on the Western coastline for some time now."

"Does each faction have such ambitions?" Eowyn asked interested. At this time Theodon, Eomer, and Gamling entered the great hall.

Their presence did not deter Vezely from answering, "Surprisingly this war has united the East under a common banner and purpose, to reclaim the lands West once Shadow covers them. Where before, groups lived somewhat steady existences through free trade and accepted territories, now there is a scramble to prove higher allegiance to Sauron in return for more land and power. My suspicions are that regardless of which side wins, disputes are inevitable," she said, considering again how she would have to return East to help with the clean up if the West indeed pulled through.

"For Evil Men, suspicions are unnecessary," Eomer joined the conversation.

"Evil?" Vezely queried, slightly amused at the thought, "The very term is used in the East to describe those who claim themselves Free."

"Evil or not, they are our enemies," Theodon added.

"And Vez will provide you all the necessary information on these enemies," Gandalf stated, intervening for he knew her brazenness was often too much for her own good.

Vezely nodded in deference to Gandalf, for this task was part of her charge of relocation and she needed to show more respect, though garnering it was not easy for her.

Theodon showed interest, "Good, tomorrow then, we will have council."

Before slicing another piece of apple with her knife, she provided an agreeable nod to the king, and briefly shifted her eyes at Eomer who remained overtly suspicious of her. She then looked at Legolas, gauging his thoughtful expression, reminding herself again that their conversations were always more personal and less confrontational than those she engaged in with others. She felt less guarded speaking to him, yet around others she cautiously maintained a demeanor that appeared unaffected by the world around her. It was a strange dichotomy. She smiled softly at him, realizing these thoughts stalled her in doing so; a moment that didn't go unnoticed by Legolas.

The conversation inevitably broke up into smaller groupings. Eowyn and Vez further discussed these factions in the East. To others, the two would appear unlikely to be amicable, but much they shared in feminine courage. Vez continued to sense that Eowyn had a decisive role to play in this war, though she did not always trust such instincts.

Afterwards she would go to check if her garments were prepared and unfortunately, they were not. Instead, she replaced all her rings and rewrapped her wrists. She also draped her black headscarf loosely around her neck, for it had been the only piece ready. She felt comforted by its familiarity and darker color, which she felt suited her better than the light cream fabric of the dress. She noted how suddenly it held the scent of the West, having been dried by its breeze.

Instead of regrouping with her companions, she wandered to the outer stretches of the city where the rocks cut down sharply to an abyss below. A wall had been made centuries past to keep wanderers from passing and accidentally falling to their deaths. She held no such worry, and quickly jumped the cobbled stone trappings to stand upon the rock face.

She sat down, dangling her legs over, and she continued to breathe the air a few more moments until it grew more frigid with the setting sun. "Vezely," her name held meaning to the Balchoth. In Westron it meant "the setting sun." The sun sets in the West, and it was where she came from, so her Balchoth parents found it appropriate; for she would be their sun leading their people to what they felt was their rightful claim to the lands West of Rhovanion. Misguided, yes, but truth is a value judgment made real by circumstance. _Nwalmaer_, she suddenly thought of the nickname her kin branded her with. "You tormented others and now you are tormented," she said to herself, "Perhaps this is justice."

Upon her return to the cabin, Gimli was the only one who remained, having over napped while the rest had gone to the Golden Hall. "There you are lass, we should head over, or were you thinking of skipping out of this?" he asked taking her by the arm, "And you're frozen!"

"I was facing the Western winds," she replied stalling a little, and not noticing the cold he was referring to, "Are others already over there?"

"Aye, thought you'd might be with Lady Eowyn already," he replied.

"I suppose I got lost in my thoughts," she said apologetically.

"Fair enough. I'm going to get lost in the ale barrels. Time to drink the house dry," he added merrily.

She followed him appearing amused but feeling her acceptance at such an event uncanny. The hall was packed with the men and women of Edoras, gathered in their best attire to pay their respects to those who died in battle. She stood on the sidelines, keeping behind ordinary townsfolk, desiring her presence to go unnoticed; perhaps the dress assisted slightly in this.

Having been handed a cup from Eowyn, Theodon addressed the crowd, "Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" The crowd responded, taking a swig of their ale and taking a brief moment of silence.

With the festivities underway, Gimli made his way to the barrels of ale, while Vezely walked through the hall to a line of banners strung from the ceiling, each representing the great kings of Rohan. She stopped on the first one for Eorl the Young, the man she killed at the Battle of the Wold. On the far wall beyond was an elaborate tapestry, weaved with an image of a horse stamping out the sun, symbolically representing the destruction of the Easterlings at the hands of Rohan. Such a sight did not lift her spirits or quell her apprehension of being there.

"A defining figure," the voice came from beside her, "For you and for Rohan."

It was King Theodon, who Vezely courteously nodded in reverence to. "History makes it so, but at the time, such importance was unknown."

"I often wondered what sort of man he really was outside of legend. When you met him on the field, do you recall his demeanor?" he asked curiously, while admiring his banner.

She considered this question strange, but proceeded cautiously, "His eyes burned with the determination for his people. He said he would not let me take this land or harm its people anymore. He cared not for himself."

"He was a true king then," Theodon replied proudly, though the evening had led him to continue questioning his prior resolve at Helm's Deep, and how he almost failed his people. He would have given up, if not for Aragorn.

Vezely resisted the urge to say Eorl the Young died like any other man, for it is as such when sword meets flesh. She then turned towards Theodon and could sense that doubts of his leadership consumed him and she suddenly felt ill for her bitter thoughts. She reminded herself that she must let the West have their kings, for it is their way and where their hope resides. "You are not unlike him," she replied encouragingly, causing him to look at her with serious eyes. "Your men respect you, as his did. I remember, when I struck him down, they rose up even stronger and defeated us. That respect does not come from title alone."

Theodon thought through the woman's words, accepting them as a courteous remark that kinghood does not simply have to be about inheritance. Feeling gracious for the positive stance taken in this conversation, Theodon added, looking her straight in the eye, "Tonight I allow you to feast in this hall as a friend of Rohan, your past need not haunt you."

The validation made Vezely feel humbled and her hesitation of being there lightened, "Gratitude, for your continued kindness." She was reminded of how her expectations of the West were not matching up to its reality.

As Theodon left, she made her way through the crowd thinking perhaps she should attempt to locate her companions. She knew she had avoided them all afternoon and suddenly thought ill for it.

Legolas had regrouped with Gimli just prior, and was goaded into a drinking challenge administered by Eomer who had control of the barrel brew. He had spent the afternoon following the brunch with his companions in the cabin, as they swapped stories with the two hobbits of their prior adventures. He noted Vezely's absence, making him query the evening prior. He did not know if he made her feel uncomfortable by pulling her next to him, or even why he decided to do so. He admitted he continued to be intrigued by her differences from other elves and this held part of his attraction. For despite all his time and accumulated knowledge, he still could not quite figure her out. But he began to wonder if the task of figuring her out was simply a useful diversion for his mind; that it was to alleviate the stress of the current situation and nothing more.

That afternoon he reflected on when he laid eyes upon her during her healing sleep in Mirkwood. He had accompanied his father to speak to Rayne, the young healer who offered to watch after the woman as she healed - the one she unfortunately almost made her victim. She looked incredibly peaceful as she laid there, her pale skin illuminated by the light, her hair dark as soil and cut bluntly shoulder length and with a heavy fringe balancing her fairness. Her freckles, a rarity among elves, added to her unique beauty. "She is young," he said surprised to his father, noting her youth as an elf of just a century old, appearing as a teenager to man. "But as a child raised by men she has lived a full life," his father replied to him, knowing more about this woman than he. His eyes lingered and his father noted it, but said nothing. His father would not mention it until after her departure, saying there would be a time to resolve the reason their paths had crossed and the feelings that might linger. He rebuked his father for even suggesting such feelings existed, especially since she had left an ill impression in his mind when she awoke with eyes of malice and deceit.

If only he could question his father on his words once more, he thought, for he knew not the role he should play now that their paths had crossed again. Was it right for him to tell her Elvish history, to provide her knowledge of her roots, and thus encourage her to accept them? Perhaps he had too easily trusted her, forgetting the reality of her past for he could only sense the uncertainty of her present. He certainly was not falling in love with her, he told himself, having maintained his stance as a detached warrior despite his father's encouragement to seek companionship earlier in life. He had given up hope of finding a woman who he cared more for on all levels; quickly admitting to the incompatibility of his prior short relationships unlike others of his generation who let false love linger. Elves were monogamous creatures, with souls destined to find their partners amongst them. Many have to wait centuries to discover "the one" and some prefer to negate the search for quicker comfort of one not so perfect. Yet he wanted no such relationship, knowing they would lack substance and complexity. He would wait, even if it meant several more centuries of loneliness and an empty bed. Yet the waiting had led to quelling his desire of companionship altogether. The absurdity of finding "the one" now and with someone as estranged as her seemed farthest from possible. His attraction must simply be one of diversion and empathy, nothing more, he thought. And yet he felt it was wrong to pity her, for she did not desire it nor in reality deserved it. This realization now made him even more uncertain of how to interact with her.

Making her way through the crowd, Vezely ran into Eowyn, who looked cheered by the merriment before her. "It is good to see you again," Eowyn said, "But you do not have a drink in your hand? I will send you to the barrels. I would accompany you, but my duty is elsewhere," she motioned Vez in the direction of the liquor. Eowyn had the task of visiting with the people, a duty of noble blood in such a gathering.

She made her way through the crowd in the direction she was put in, spotting a table piled high with empty mugs, an elf standing nearby, a dwarf passed out on the ground below, and Eomer filling a mug with ale from one of the many barrels brought in for the event. As she moved closer, she caught the glazed over eyes of Legolas who looked upon her as if she was in slow motion.

He felt as if suddenly he was less aware of his surroundings, for the tingling in his fingers had continued and he felt overly relaxed. Elves often developed a high tolerance to alcohol though their long lives, and were hardly affected by over-drinking. Though Gimli had pushed him quite farther than he had drunk in sometime and he noted the physical feelings he hadn't had since his youth. Vezely was still in the dress she wore that afternoon, and as she moved he noted how the fabric swayed gracefully about her. She looked less exotic, and more familiar.

"These were once full?" she asked amused after reaching his side, referring to the empty mugs piled on the table.

He smiled slightly while looking at Gimli knocked out on the floor.

"Competition," Vezely said knowingly, "And you won." She shook her head and laughed, "Well, Gimli did say he would drink the hall dry, it was not in jest."

Eomer had filled a mug of ale and handed it to Vezely, "It is not dry yet," he said with a friendly face.

Slightly surprised by the gesture, Vezely returned a friendly demeanor while accepting the mug from him, nodding her head in gratitude.

"It is said," Eomer continued, his words now addressing the crowd nearby, "That Vezely of the Balchoth breathes fire and scorches all men who lay eyes upon her. Such tales scare children in their sleep. Funny how history twists reality." Eomer had made the men around him laugh, and Vezely noted slight contempt in his words.

But such stories made her amused, she smirked and gained a shrewd look on her face, "It is truth but a trick," she stated, causing the men's laughing to stop and look upon her. "One only needs liquor, a torch, and the ability to spit." She then smiled before taking a drink of her ale.

A moment of silence was followed by Eomer laughing, "Well enough. Another round!" He began pouring for the men nearby who cheered him on. Luckily the night was not one well suited to breed contempt.

Legolas, who stood close beside her, asked in her ear quietly, "This is only jest?"

She hesitated, wondering if she should be ashamed, "…No, it is not."

He smirked, lightening his tone but saying sarcastically, "Well, you certainly make an impression."

She assumed he was not necessarily passing judgment, despite it being foul to light men on fire. After a moment, she added, hoping to not linger on it and to set the reason for her avoidance of them that day, "Speaking of impressions, I apologize for my absence this afternoon. I thought it kind to allow trusted companions their space."

"Your presence is not one that deters from such a space," he replied politely, doubtful whether this was the real reason she was absent.

She smiled at his words, noting his replies often displayed impeccable manners. Hoping to discuss her thoughts she added, "I actually reflected on the first time we met in Mirkwood."

He looked at her surprised, having also reflected on those events earlier.

Before she could continue, however, a ruckus started behind them; the two hobbits Merry and Pippin busted out in song, mugs in hand and dancing on top of a table. It was impossible to ignore for either of them and they smiled at each other knowing they would continue this conversation another time. Yet even when the song had ended and they could talk again, from their side two men approach them, "Excuse me," the man started hesitantly, he was wearing bandages and looked to still be healing.

Vezely recognized him as the wounded guard she helped after the warg battle; the man beside him was his friend who faithfully remained by his side. "I want to thank you, for saving my life," he said with added conviction, for it probably took him a lot of courage to approach her.

"Arman, correct?" Vezely remembered his friend calling out his name. The man nodded. "You fought for your life," she said humbly, "I only assisted."

His hand went out to her and she took it, offering an equally strong forearm shake. The man at his side also nodded politely to her before they left.

She did not turn to Legolas, for if she did she would see his thoughtful demeanor, for he believed the moment may have had some resonance for her. Instead, she took her drink from the table, staring into the liquid before taking a drink. She felt oddly proud for saving a man's life rather than taking one. For a Balchoth, this was an uncommon occurrence.

"You are yet a good person," Legolas prompted himself to say to her, for he believed she would have continued to avoid talking, "Even if you rather not be called so."

Her eyes turned to his; he was too perceptive. "I have been called many things. I suppose I should not get offended when they are positive."

Before they could continue their conversation, Eomer called out to those nearby, "Could I interest anyone in a game of chance?"

"A dice game?" Vezely quickly responded curious, having always been one for gambling.

"A betting game," he replied.

"And what are the stakes?" She did not know if she had anything worth gambling.

"Whatever you have," Eomer said, "Stakes can be high or low."

She looked briefly at Legolas, who seemed amused that she showed any interest in the sport. Turning back to Eomer she stated assuredly, "As long as it does not involve body parts, I'm in," which caused odd stares from those around her. She then realized perhaps they did not dabble in those types of high stakes this side of Rhovanion. She put her ale mug down, and then climbed over the bench and propped her elbows on the table, cracking her knuckles in preparation for the game.


	11. Decisive Gambling

Thank you to my 100 followers! I am overwhelmed by this and I really love this chapter, hope you all do too.

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**Chapter 11 Decisive Gambling**

Sitting at the head of the table, Eomer appeared slightly irritated, for Vez seemed overly confident in taking part in the game, though he at least thought her inclusion would make things interesting. Another rather large Rhohirrim with a blond scraggly beard brought the die, throwing cups, and cards. "Legolas?" Eomer asked his interest, but the elf raised his hands, "I am afraid I am done with games for this night," he said politely, still feeling slightly buzzed from the alcohol consumption; he remained standing nearby to observe.

Two other Rohirrim joined the group and Eomer laid out the game's rules. Vezely was unsurprised that it was similar to the game she often played in the East; the card's symbols were just different. The men threw various coins into the pot and she removed one ring from her finger, a gold ring with a small emerald in the center - A ring taken from a Cosair pirate during one of the resistance's brief campaigns at sea. "To start," she said, feeling good about playing, for gambling offered a chance to take her mind off of more pressing matters.

The various throws of dice went around with higher stakes being thrown in, Vezely added another ring. Legolas noted her honed gestures, the way she rolled the dice in the cup and her confidence in her dealings with the cards; he deduced she must have played this game often before.

After several rounds, the two men decidedly backed out, leaving Vez against Eomer.

"The stakes should go higher," Eomer said assuredly, seeming confident in his current hand.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge his hand as compared to hers, "What do you have in mind?"

"Our horses," Eomer stated confidently. "If I win, you give me that black stead of yours. If you win, you can have the best horse of the Rohirrim."

Vezely had no interest in his horse, or giving up hers. "It seems a fair bet, but you have many horses at your disposal. As for myself, I am carried only by one and have no desire for two."

"You did agree to high stakes," he added steadily, about to charge her with weakness for backing out.

She breathed in, thinking she got a sense of his bluff and grew more assured of her own hand. "I did. So my horse for yours."

Legolas grew uncomfortable. It was a bet if in a similar position, he would not have taken.

They each laid their cards down, and to Eomer's disappointment, his hand did not surpass Vezely's. She quickly gathered the small pile of coin in front of her from which she replaced her two rings.

Eomer looked incredibly displeased, but he remained courteous. "Well played. I will bring you my horse in the morning."

She nodded at him before he left along with his fellow gamblers, saying nothing. She felt it was simply enough to leave it be until the morning. In reality, she had no intention of accepting his horse, but figured she'd give him the night to believe she did.

Legolas took a seat next to her, querying, "You knew he was bluffing?"

"Yes, otherwise I would never wager Gizik," she replied before proceeding to drink the last of her third mug of ale. "I have learned to read men. They are quick to wager what they perceive is against your better intentions in the hopes that you will not take that bet."

"You have played this often then," he stated.

"More so prior to my captivity, but also following it. I left the dungeons with nothing. I gambled out of need," she then took one of the pile's gold coins and observed it, biting it with her teeth to check if it was real.

"The resistance did not assist you?" he asked curiously, though slightly off-put by her unladylike gesture, for which the dress she wore did not suit.

"They did not accept me at first, nor could I easily accept them," thinking back to her uneasy transition integrating back into the world once relocating her mind. Closing her hand around the coin, she smiled slightly changing to a friendlier subject, "Not long ago I won Gizik from a similar match. The man wagered a kiss thinking I would not be willing to submit to it."

"He was brave," he replied amused, and then adding sarcastically, "I would think a finger is an easier wager to make."

She laughed while holding up her other hands and observing it to prove she never lost to such bets, "I have played with such stakes long ago, when I feared not nor cared of pain for myself or others. Alas, I remain reckless to a degree."

"You are young. Perhaps when I was your age, I was of similar disposition," he replied amused.

"It is odd to be considered young," she said thoughtfully, "You are how old?"

"Four times your age," he answered with a small smile while looking at her, wanting to see if such an age dichotomy surprised her.

"You have seen much then," she smiled back at him, not necessarily deterred by it but it made her curious as to the interactions amongst various generations of elves.

"You would think so. Even with eternal youth, those older envy ones my age. My father would say so of me, being born in a brief time of peace after the founding of our kingdom in Northern Mirkwood. Though, I would reply, our home has never known peace. It is always being invaded by orcs and always on the edge of Shadow. Yet he as others remember the Dark Times, the First Alliance of elves and men, when Sauron was at his height of power, when my grandfather died during the war that stretched throughout Middle Earth. It has been a long defeat and they have seen more of it. The younger of us can only think we understand." Vez listened intently, amazed by such an age dichotomy, as many elves have lived in the world since its beginning. Her stretch of life paled in comparison. He continued, hoping to revisit their first meeting, which each had thought about that day, "You were even younger when we first met. A child by elf standards and your youth was a topic of discussion during your brief stay."

"I was not a child amongst men," she replied slightly miffed at being considered so; perhaps he did view her as a child, she thought. Though she wondered why this interest was so amongst his kin.

"No, but there are few elves your age in Middle Earth since fewer have been born during these times. For we are most concerned about our offspring, and would choose not to bring a child into the world under such conditions. I am an only child because of this. While I do not question your existence, but query the possibility of higher reasoning behind it," he proposed his thoughts, thinking of his father's acknowledgment of their crossed paths and hoping to further converse on it.

"Higher reasoning?" she replied skeptically, shaking her head, "Posing such questions only leads to others, and mostly angered ones. Many like to speak of fate and destiny. I want to know who dictates such paths for I would have a thing or two to say to them."

"You would be bold to do so," he said dryly, noting her disgruntlement.

"Would I?" she shrugged unconcerned for speaking brash, "I have been from one side of the East to the other. Everywhere people claim to be guided by gods, spirits, the divine, the Valar...they seek their protection, defer their will to them as if such beings exist or care. I ask, where was their protection when my army slaughtered them, burnt their villages down, took their livestock? Was it higher reasoning for me to bring these people to their knees for the sake of Sauron, who may as well claim himself divine?" She stopped, for these questions irritated her, "Forgive me, I tire of being owned by unseen forces, as well as having my path dictated by those I can see," referring not only to Sauron's use of her, but also more recently being made to go West by the Blue Wizards, having little say in the matter.

He knew he had struck a chord, which he had not initially expected. He added carefully, "You desire to make your own path?"

"If I was at liberty to," she said, trying to speak calmly and desiring detachment from the subject, "I have yet to pay my debts and gain that right. Returning West is part of it." She then looked at him stoically, sensing he was considering her words and trying to figure her out. He was always doing so she realized.

Legolas thought through his father's premonition, wondering his own role in this and feeling uncertain of her current demeanor. She seemed to suddenly be distancing herself from the conversation, quelling what obviously angered her. "It seems fitting, since you once lost the right to return to these lands," he said calmly.

"Yes, your father banished me," she seemed amused, "Rightfully so, for I provoked the attack on your kin. We were given the chance to turn around but after our prior defeat on the Wold, I was in no mood to be deterred."

Legolas did not know she provoked the attack, though somehow he was not surprised. Several of his friends had died, and a sudden bitterness grew in his mind.

"I remember," Vezely continued unconcerned about what this new information meant to him, "Thinking of the emptiness of your father's threat for I always assumed I would return, but not as such."

Legolas tried not to let his resentment show, for it was unfair of him to judge her the same now. "My father knew you would return. You may not believe in fate, but he did foresee it. But by a different path and as a different person," he stated with slight encouragement in his tone.

"Well, one thing is different, I no longer have an army," she added slightly annoyed at the notion of being different or of such premonitions coming true. Suddenly she wished her mug could be refilled.

His eyes narrowed, for her reply seemed not in jest. He added slightly angered, "You act as if you have not changed, that you remain who were under Sauron."

She noted the contempt in his words and did not answer, instead she shifted her eyes away from him. Unfortunately, she could not necessarily disagree with the assertion.

"I spoke rashly," Legolas then added politely, seemingly out of instinct, "On things I obviously know not."

She returned her gaze to him, her eyes appearing unmoved by his apology for she believed it was formed simply out of his elite Elvish breeding. "You desire to figure me out," she replied, noticeably irritated and knowing it to be true, "Don't. For I still do not know myself." She hesitantly stood up from the table, her hand grasping the top of her mug, hesitating whether to bring it with her to find more to drink or to leave it be. She let go of it slowly and left his side, desiring to leave the merriment of the Golden Hall for the dark and quiet of outside.

Legolas's annoyance at the exchange did not immediately dissipate. Again he questioned why he cared to know more about her? She seemed now to be too problematic a diversion for his mind and he desired to lose interest. Though underlying these thoughts were guilt; had he led the conversation poorly and perhaps he should not have suggested she remained the same as under Sauron. He suddenly worried he caused her distress rather than alleviating it. He was confounded not only by why he cared for her, but still cared nonetheless.

Aragorn, who had been talking with Gandalf just prior, approached the elf who remained seated in contemplation, while Gimli was still passed out on the floor below. He sensed some distress in his friend as he rounded the bench in front of him.

"Thoughts consume you," he said calmly in Elvish after sitting.

"And ones I should not be concerned with in such times," he replied, sounding disappointed in himself.

Aragorn assumed such concerns pertained to Vez, who he had seen storming off just prior, "You two exchanged harsh words?"

He did not answer this directly and said instead, "I do not understand her. One minute we are affable, the next at odds."

"Do you desire to understand her?" he asked carefully.

"This I cannot deny, though it has become more of a distraction for my mind than anything," he replied, having convinced himself prior that his interest was so. "I admit to feeling obligated to offer her knowledge, to assist her in understanding our kin for there is much she does not know."

Aragorn knew Legolas was protective, but to a default, often viewing his companions as children and looking down on them; he replied carefully, "No doubt she is grateful for the information you offer, but she is not an obligation, or a student needing to be taught. And if figuring her out is only a distraction, it should not cause you such distress."

"She cannot be more than that," he stated assuredly looking at him with serious eyes.

Aragorn noted his slip in calling the task her. While unconvinced in his detachment, but deferring to his friend's convictions, Aragorn replied calmly, "Regardless. If she is causing you distress..."

"I should not involve myself," he finished his sentence.

Aragorn nodded, "That is for your heart to decide."

Aragorn unfortunately had a way of grounding his thoughts, making him confront his less becoming character traits, and reflect again on his instincts. An obligation, a distraction, it was unfair of him to think of her as such, and he wondered why he did so. He could not be denying other feelings for her - "_No_," he reassured himself, "_She is not someone to seek companionship with, we are not compatible, nor does she harbor such feelings."_

Before their conversation could continue, Eowyn had approached them, having just come from speaking to Vez. She seemed slightly apprehensive, uncertain of how to approach the subject...

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_[Minutes prior]_

Reflecting that afternoon left Vez with a great deal of distrust in Legolas's intentions for during their conversation she led herself to believe he was judging her responses, and he practically insinuated that she was a child or at least it seemed that way to her currently. "_He thinks I'm naive_," she thought, walking through the crowd, "_A child needing to be taught._" She was too angered to question herself on why she cared so much about how he viewed her, for others opinions always mattered so little to her.

Before she could reach the door, however, Eowyn approached her from the side, slowing her steps to a halt. She tried to remove any hint of distress from her face when greeting her.

Eowyn desired to share her concern with Vezely over rumors of trouble that could come from the previous gambling match she partook in. "Eomer is not pleased that you won his horse," she confided quietly.

"As I would not have been pleased if he won mine, but he did agree to the bet," Vezely replied unconcerned.

"Of course, but he may be reckless when drunk and I do not want harm to come from it," she said concerned.

"What would he do?" Vezely asked skeptically, then the thought hit her, "He would not touch my horse, would he?"

Eowyn's eyes showed slight apprehension, enough to make Vez turn quickly from her to go to the stables. Her mind had shifted from the previous quarrel to one of equal annoyance.

Upon entering, she found Ridar, the man who sought to apprehend her after the Warg battle, and two of the men she played the card game against, but Eomer was nowhere to be found. They were attempting to pull Gizik from her stall, much to the horse's displeasure.

"Is there a reason you are handling my horse?" Vezely stated sternly, her eyes narrowed on the men before her.

"It's a lovely evenin' for a ride," the one man replied assuredly, but his speech was slurred and he was obviously drunk. He tugged again on the horse's reigns causing her to whiney and stamp her hooves.

"And is it a good evening to die?" Vezely warned them sarcastically, for she was not amused watching Gizik being stressed.

"Are you threatening us?" Ridar stated back, undeterred by her words, his posture straightening as he turned towards her.

"I am politely warning," Vezely added, raising one eyebrow.

Before Ridar replied, the man closest to her charged, but she dogged him only to find Ridar also attempting to throw a punch into her face. She diverted their attempts easily and did not retaliate, but when the third man joined in, she no longer felt kind.

While slowed down by the skirt of her dress, they were slowed down by their previous alcohol consumption. Their inability to touch her made one mad enough to unsheathe his dagger making the fight more serious. He swung at her wildly until she grabbed the man's arm and twisted it backward, causing him to flip to the ground quickly. The other man charged her from behind, attempting to strangle her in a choke hold. She was able to divert his attempt by elbowing him in the gut. She then spun behind him to hit him across the back of the upper neck, knocking him to the floor unconscious. Ridar was left standing and exceedingly angry at the fall of his friends, and he retrieved his friend's dagger from the ground, "You witch, I will kill you," he spat with teeth cinched and brows furled.

She dodged the knife and retaliated, managing, despite the skirt, to kick him against the stable wall. She quickly found her hands at his throat, pinning him to the boards as he desperately tried to claw at her grip as it grew tighter, she watched his face turned red, she was angry and did not care if the man suffered from loss of air.

At this moment, Eowyn, Eomer, Aragorn, and Legolas entered the barn to find one man unconscious, another on the floor stirring in pain, Gizik stamping wildly, and Vezely in this compromising position. She released Ridar just before his brain went dark, causing him to fall to the ground like a rag doll before coughing breath into his lungs.

"What is the meaning of this?" Eomer asked in heightened tone.

Vezely remained quiet, her face showing no emotion beside the rage that brought the men down.

"Speak woman," he commanded her instead of his men.

Eowyn interjected equally angry, "It is obvious they were intending foul play with her horse. I alerted her to these issues, ones you did not dissuade your friends from prior."

Vezely went over to Gizik, talking to her in Easterling, hoping to calm her down as she stamped around wildly. Legolas quickly went to assist her, helping to get Gizik under control through soft Elvish chants. She did not look at him as he did this, for anger still writhed in her.

Aragorn had gone to check the pulse of the fallen man, as the others groaned in discomfort and attempted to stand on their feet. Eomer stood quietly by his sister assessing a response to the situation. "Knives," Aragorn said to the group, picking the dagger off the floor, "They had even fouler intent." He then looked back to Eomer for answers.

"Apologies, I did not know they would go beyond simple horse play. I will have words with my men," he said now feeling slightly guilty for not dissuading their intentions earlier. He appeared honest in not believing they would go this far. He went to Ridar and attempted to steady him to his feet, "Sorry my lord," the man croaked. "I should strip you of rank," Eomer replied to him displeased.

"That won't be necessary," Vez interrupted, leaving Gizik's side to approach Eomer, glaring at Ridar momentarily before speaking her peace. "I do not care for myself," she said cautiously, "But advise your men not to mess with my horse, which is something I thought horse masters would respect." She then stated to him personally, "And your horse is still yours. I was not going to accept my prize come morning."

Legolas, who had calmed Gizik significantly, thought a walk outside the stables would further ease her stress and he was already making his way to do so. He thought the same would do well for Vezely, if she desired to follow him.

Vezely did desire to leave the scene, needing distance from it and finding her path already being led by the elf, who Gizik was following without question. She approached Eowyn before leaving, saying sincerely, "Apologies for your dress Eowyn, the coin I won tonight should pay for it," for the skirt was covered in muck and slightly tattered.

Eowyn shook her head, showing appreciation for the concern, but she did not care to have her payment. "It is not important," she said appreciatively.

Vezely looked at her sincerely before leaving through the stable's entrance. The two elves walked Gizik slowly to the edge of town. They remained silent, and Vezely felt her anger dissipate slightly as her horse calmed.

"I can take her from here," Vezely said breaking the uncomfortable silence, hoping to rustle the reigns from him and be on her way alone.

He stopped to face her, noting her distress and desiring to ease her tension but knowing not what to say for their conversation prior remained unsettled, as did his feelings for her.

He slowly handed her the reigns, which she took quickly and turned from him. Before she had gone three steps he called to her, "The stars still shine."

She stopped and turned her face to the side, for memories of their first conversation about the stars hit her, when she had asked whether the stars ever lost their light. She stood still for a moment before quietly replying with the same line he told her in his explanation, "Even behind a veil of darkness." She looked back at him, finding genuine concern in his eyes and a small smile which had formed from hearing his prior words, for she had remembered.

She returned his smile, exchanging with her eyes an unspoken apology for before. In that brief moment, before she would turn from him again and walk Gizik away, they rediscovered that true affection and warmth did exist between them. On the outskirts of town, where she would listen as the townsfolk exited the Golden Hall, filtering their way to their homes down below, she realized perhaps her distrust was misplaced. While she knew not how he viewed her, for he may as well seen her as a child, she should not harbor contempt in his intentions for they had provided her comfort. For through him, she saw the possibility of belonging. While the implications of this continued to concern her and she could not yet find the willingness to accept it, his companionship made such a path possible. _Companionship_, suddenly the thought of its connotation consumed her. She could not judge whether their companionship was more than a simple bond between kin or between battle mates. But thinking of it beyond friendship made her laugh at its absurdity. _King Thranduil's son and me?_ _We could not be more incompatible_, she thought, _for he is a proper Elf, and I am properly problematic_. Despite any attraction she held, she could not think it probable or reasonable for either of them. When the hall grew silent and the village appeared to sleep, she would return Gizik to the stables.

Legolas returned to the hall's outside terrace, not desiring to return to the gathering in order to collect his thoughts in solitude for the evening had brought much to think about. While just prior their argument made him desire to lose all interest in her, now he realized he did harbor genuine concern for her well-being. He cared about her and she was not an obligated concern, but one that grew out of knowing her as a person and the person she is, while estranged and uncouth, attracted him. His father did mention after her departure from Mirkwood that one day he would come to understand the feelings that may linger. For then he only saw in her eyes malice and deceit, but tonight he realized those same eyes brought him warmth and reassurance. But even if feelings of attraction exist, it did not make pursuing such a relationship right. _An unlikely couple_, he thought, _One to cause more concern than celebration. _

Amidst his thoughts grew a darkness emanating from the East. Aragorn who had gone outside for a smoke, would find him standing on the ledge, head cloaked staring at Mordor in the distance.

He spoke to Aragorn concerned, "The stars are veiled. Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice. The eye of the enemy is moving."


	12. The Palantir, Power, and Position

Sorry I can't update as fast; January is a busy month for me - but no worries, this story will be written! :D Thanks to all my followers and reviewers! Much love!

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**Chapter 12 - The Palantir, Power, and Position**

It was then that a young hobbit invited the eye of Sauron to their communal sleeping quarters in Edoras. Pippin had grown unnaturally curious of the Palantir taken from Sarumon and lifted it from Gandalf while he was sleeping. Legolas was alerted immediately of the shift in Sauron's gaze, and he raced inside the quarters alongside Aragorn to find the young hobbit caught to the glowing orb.

Meanwhile, Vezely was amidst returning to the veranda when Sauron's presence overwhelmed her at the top of the steps, filtering her thoughts with cold murmurs and past truths. She had not felt his presence since her captivity, being hidden from his eye for so long. She moved quickly to the door, opening it to reveal a struggle had taken place and the glowing orb rolling towards her, having just been dispatched from Aragorn's hands.

She stared down at it, drawn into its gaze and Sauron's eye readjusted to hers as she went to her knees in front of it, her arms outstretched, her palms mere inches from its touch, as if she was welcoming it and the conversation it evoked. It seemed to speak to her and she reciprocated its tongue, speaking to it fluently in the Black Speech of Mordor, "…You own me not." In one swift motion, she threw the scarf from around her neck over it, covering it from view.

Her eyes then scanned the room suspiciously, finding Aragorn and Legolas looking upon her surprised; all others remained confounded by the previous occurrence. Suddenly Gandalf stood in front of her with his staff pointed at her face, "Speak, and prove you are yourself," his voice heightened.

She had not yet regained full presence of mind and felt slightly numb from the experience. "Dark thoughts entered my mind, foul requests that will forever go unanswered. But I remain myself," she said slowly, noting Sauron's desire to turn her from her path of redemption. She remained on her knees, the look of distress marked her face as she and others turned their attention to Pippin who remained unconscious.

Gandalf awoke the hobbit and queried him on what he saw; trying to break him from the fear that overtook him and find out what information Sauron gave and received.

During this time, Vezely went to locate her rucksack and found her tin of spice tea; feeling a need for it at this hour. She then went over to Pippin, who was huddled in a blanket next to his friend Merry, who looked stern, but concerned for his friend who seemed to always get himself into messes. Pippin looked ashamed that he brought the eye upon them.

"Come, I find tea a most settling ailment at an unpleasant hour such as this," Vez said calmly to him, hoping to lead him into the Great Hall to boil a kettle of water on the fire. "There is enough for several cups," she then added to everyone else before leaving.

"It wouldn't happen to be Easterling spice tea, now would it?" Gandalf inquired interested, for he did so enjoy it and had not tasted a cup for ages.

"It would," Vez replied back pleasantly.

"Oh, well then, I will also join, though I do prefer mine strong with milk and honey," he added agreeably while following her, as if the bad tidings were not an issue.

Merry helped her clear some of the plates from the table, which had yet to be cleaned from last evening's gathering. She had used the final remnants of her tea leaves, though it did not concern her when closing the empty tin's lid. She was grateful to share the last of it amongst them. After it brewed, she would bring the kettle over and quietly fill the tea cups and they would all enjoy the scent of the rare spices fill the air around them.

Handing the first cup to Pippin, she said to him kindly, "This will warm you up, for I know the cold that lingers." He graciously accepted it with a brief smile, feeling slightly calmed by her acknowledgment of what he was feeling.

Gimli, who remained hung over from the previous night's drinking game, also stumbled in to get a cup, looking a bit wrung out and forgetful of the past evening. He seated himself at the table near Pippin. Legolas, who casually stood aside the table in his usual manner, asked with the slightest hint of boasting, "Did you sleep well my friend?"

"Aye. But before I admit defeat, I'll remind ya still didn't outscore me at Helm's Deep," he said assuredly, knowing he had lost to the drinking game.

"I do not begrudge you one. And as you said, there are plenty more to go," he replied kindly.

Vezely thought warmly of their friendship, for she could tell it had difficult beginnings. She thought the same of the rest of the fellowship, for their friendships were true. To find herself amongst them at such an hour did much to comfort her.

"This may actually help your head," she said knowingly while pouring Gimli a cup. After which she placed down the kettle and unconsciously rubbed the wrist of the hand that held it, for her old wounds were giving her pain.

"Thank you lass, but you look to need it just as much," Gimli replied back concerned, grateful for the aroma and warmth of the cup in his hands, but noticing her tension as did others.

Legolas finally spoke of his growing concern, having watched her since the incident. His words made her turn her eyes to him, "You conversed with him."

"In the Black Speech of Mordor," Gandalf addressed the group, while not pleasing to hear such tongue he appeared unconcerned of the incident which he recounted, "Sauron requested Vez to bring down the heir of Isildur."

Vezely suddenly removed her eyes away from Legolas's, feeling slightly ashamed that such a request had been made. She then spoke to the group, hoping something was learned from it, "Sauron is afraid. He fears Aragorn." Her eyes now turning on the man, who had been quietly considering the prior incident with the Palantir and what he saw, if only momentarily.

"And such fear will progress this war," Gandalf added, his cup in mid-air before his mouth, "The heir of Isildur is announced. He believes men will unite under a common banner and will move quickly."

Theodon entered the Great Hall to be addressed on the incident, where Gandalf assured him that the enemy had not gained any additional information of their ring bearer from Pippin, but they gained valuable knowledge of where he would strike next - Minas Tirith, the seat of Gondor.

Theodon was hesitant of riding to Gondor's aid immediately, dissatisfied that they didn't aid Rohan at Helm's Deep; he was determined to wait until he heard the request from Gondor itself. Despite the desire of Aragorn to go and warn his kin, Gandalf set off with Pippin to Minas Tirith to hopefully persuade the Steward to light the beacons. It was a three days journey, so they would wait and hope that once summoned, Theodon would agree to answer the call of war.

Following the meeting, and Gandalf and Pippin's swift departure, Vezely approached Aragorn outside the Golden Hall as he was returning with Merry who ran to see off his friend. She was worried that knowledge of Sauron's request would make him think ill of her.

"Aragorn," she said approaching him, then walking beside him she continued concerned, "I hope to mend what minimal trust I had with you before this morning."

Stopping, he placed his hand up to still her speech, saying sincerely, "It has not been broken."

She smiled warmly at this and offered him her hand, which he took by the forearm and shook it in solidarity. "Gratitude. You are more than worthy of the title that beckons you," she said graciously in appreciation. Despite this reassurance, however, feelings of uneasiness lingered in her.

Legolas carefully watched the young elf as she perched herself on the veranda, as she slid down on the corner ledge to sit cross-legged facing the expanding vistas of Rohan. Her body shuttered slightly and she desired the sun's rays to warm her, but the cold winds did not help her cause.

Aragorn also watched, and shared his concern with his companion who went to grab his Elven cloak from inside. Legolas attended her side and placed it around her, her eyes watching him curiously as he adjusted it, for she was not comfortable being tended to. She smiled kindly at him, a smile he returned. "Thank you," she said meekly, not begrudging him this time for taking care of her.

"You should rest," he replied softly, "The evening has been eventful and there is no fault in allowing the morning to pass unattended." Legolas then motioned to leave, believing she desired solitude, but her hand grabbed his before he did so.

Vezely spoke, her hand not releasing her grasp, "You are too polite to ask what you desire to know."

He looked upon her, slightly surprised by her touch, "I would not want it to appear that I doubt you."

"And I would not begrudge you if you did. Please stay by my side for a little longer," she requested calmly, and he then took a seat beside her, knowing not what she would say or prompting her to say anything.

After a moment of thought, she explained what she believed needed to be explained, also working through her own thoughts which were unsettled. "Sauron will forever have a hold on me. He now plays on my desires, offering me command of the Easterling armies and dominion over the lands they're set to conquer."

The pause in her speech left Legolas confused, prompting him to ask skeptically, "These are not still your desires?"

She looked at him wearily, "On the way back from Isengard, I said as my past is laid bare, do not assume my strength always came from honorable intent or that I am innocent of deeds that I only later came to question. It was not very long ago that these desires left me. Even my captivity did not sway me from what I thought was my destiny."

He allowed her to continue unimpeded.

"Upon my release from Dol Guldur, I forced myself into exile into the desserts of Rhun, leaving the care of the Blue Wizards momentarily, despite their concern for my mental stability. The warmth of the desert sun was inviting for I had only known the cold of my cell and soaked in the rays as if I could not be quenched of thirst. It is a landscape most would fear, but the open space and heat ended up being a welcomed respite. As my memories returned, I should have been filled with remorse for the deeds I've done, for the lives I took, it should have given me reason to fight for redemption. But instead, I was angry, for having been deceived, for my life's work being taken over by my second in command, for being imprisoned. And while I should be angry at Sauron for killing my blood parents and having me raised as his own vengeful plot, I cared not for this. I held nothing for my kin in the West, only a weak obligation for having aided in my release.

Joining the resistance was simply a gateway for my revenge and a place to practice my trade, even if I saw it as chipping rocks from a mighty quarry. I knew they had no chance against Sauron and the armies I helped build...The day the resistance fell was the day I set out to go West of Rhovanion, to find Gandalf and continue to fight for no higher purpose.

You desired to figure me out," she then looked at him, finding concern in his eyes for these revelations were unpleasant, "This was me before coming West. It was easier not to feel remorse, to not care about belonging, or about others. I may have even taken Sauron up on his offer. But I know now why the Blue Wizards insisted on me learning Elvish, to at least make me minimally acknowledge my roots," her eyes searched his before saying, "For they were preparing me to go West where I would meet you and you would answer questions I always had but knew not the answers. You assured me that I belong somewhere and should allow myself a higher reason to fight. Perhaps I started to believe it. And here I am, not as set in my prior path."

Legolas had not expected these words of his guidance to leave her mouth, and they stalled him in responding, "I only prompted you to realize that which was already inside you. This new path is one you should not fear," he said humbly and noticeably touched.

"My only fear is it makes me weak." She looked back on the expanses of land before before adding, "I dedicated my life to perfecting Easterling warfare, devising machines of destruction, and breeding into men the desire to fight to the death. These armies now march on your kingdom, and I am powerless to stop them."

"You should not place these burdens only on your shoulders, nor are you alone in this fight...There is still hope," he said to her with conviction, turning her attention back to him.

She searched his eyes, "I know not the nature of the quest you and your companions were on, or in whose hands that task now lies. I can only find minimal comfort in the faith you and your companions place in those hands," she continued with affirmation, "But I have survived with less."

They then listened to the winds rush through the valley below, rustling the grasses and drying the morning dew. Vezely felt warmed by the cloak that now graced her shoulders and encircled her - fine Elven clothe that perhaps held some form of Elvish magic, for her wrists and ankles no longer ached.

After a few moments of silence, Legolas asked calmly, "Why have you shared this with me?"

She knew it was odd of her to suddenly open up, but after their prior argument and all the night's issues, she felt a need to express where she found herself mentally now, "I felt I may have deceived you, for I have not changed much since I was under Sauron."

"I should not have said that before," he replied apologetically.

She shook her head, "You are perceptive, just as Elves are said to be."

"I think you have changed. You are not the same woman I met centuries ago. There remains no mal intent in your eyes," he said encouragingly.

She smiled slightly, also recalling, "I remember your eyes upon me and I did not forget them through the years. I never expected to meet them again on the edge of Fangorn."

"But they are not the same eyes that look upon you now, for I hold no contempt in my heart for you," he said wholeheartedly.

She smiled warmly, "I said I did not want your forgiveness."

"You cannot always have what you want," he said mischievously.

She laughed slightly before saying diplomatically, "Understood." She was smiling inside, for she felt uplifted by hopefully mending her friendship with him and Legolas did the same, for he was grateful for her openness. He no longer needed to unravel her, nor was he concerned with her deviating from this path she had set foot on.

The sun's rays would warm them until it was time for Vez to hold mid-morning council with King Theodon.

"I should go and change," she said standing, "I cannot discuss war in such an outfit."

"It does not suit you," he said politely after also standing, knowing the dress was not the proper attire for someone as herself.

"You are smart to say so," she smirked, removing the Elven cloak from her shoulders and folding it carefully. She handed it to him with both hands, "Thank you for sitting with me this morning."

As he took it from her, his hand accidentally brushed against hers and they both noted the feelings it caused, "I am grateful to have been asked."

Vezely would change back into her own attire, now washed and mended thanks to the kindness of Eowyn. Somehow her garments reflected her current position in life: lacking distinctness, as she held no rank or title in the West nor had she for the resistance where the Blue Wizards desired her to learn the humility of following orders. They did not match in color or cultural origin, for while her burgundy pants were Easterling, her navy jacket was purchased in a small town on the borders of Khand, reflecting her detachment from any particular homeland. She looked like a wanderer and was. For only her skin marked her as belonging to the culture of the Balchoth - her tattoos reflected important moments in her life as well as battle chants written in ancient Rhunic script. The Balchoth marked their bodies as the Haradhrim did, unlike other Easterling clans. It reflected their brutal, visceral nature, where scars were also signs of prestige. Yet even these tattoos remained covered. She had grown accustomed over the past half-century to being anonymous under nondescript clothing and headgear, covering her origins and her past along with it. Coming West to meet Gandalf obliterated this anonymity, making her again confront who she was and who she is currently.

This morning she would be taking on an important task, and one she would have had in her past, that of discussing war. For hundreds of years she was a general, leading campaigns to build Sauron's armies, bringing the East under his control, fighting resurgences and quelling rebellions under his banner. War was her subject of study, her trade, and once, her only purpose. The great battle for Middle Earth would begin, and while she never expected to be on the defense, the tactical implications of it intrigued her senses. But while she was prepared to tell Theodon of the forces amassed in the East, discussing strategy and tactics with him was not her place. Unless she was asked, she would not offer advice on how to fight this war. Perhaps the Blue Wizards were able to humble her to a small degree.

Vezely met Aragorn at the hall's entrance, he confided that Theodon had not been made aware of the previous night's issue in the stables with Eomer's men. For this, Vez was relieved, for she desired to keep her relationship with the king stable.

The Golden Hall was relatively quiet, though minor provisions were being taken for when they might be called for aid; Thoedon still had no intention of leaving Edoras until the Beacons of Minas Tirith were lit. On a table stationed near the throne, maps and quills were laid out, most providing schematics to Rohan's expansive kingdom. Theodon was preparing to send riders throughout his realm to call able bodied men to report under his banner. Near him stood two elderly gentlemen, Rohan's advisers since the days of his father's rule. Gamling and his nephew Eomer were also nearby, all wearing their swords, and appearing stern as Vezely approached the table. She nodded politely to the king and others.

Keeping a cool demeanor, her eyes glanced through the maps on the table, finding one outlining the expanses surrounding the White City. She brought it to the top of the pile, leaving her finger tips loosely on top of it. She looked at each of the men before beginning, sensing their anticipation. They had never been addressed by a woman about war matters before; she knew this and tried not to let it influence her tone. She began sincerely, "I can tell you what was known before the resistance fell, the information our spies obtained from behind enemy lines. It does not preclude the possibility of plans being changed, but the magnitude of conducting such alterations considering the forces amassed would be a considerable feat."

"We will accept what information you can provide," Theodon stated politely.

She nodded and straightened her posture, "Sauron will send a significant fraction of his legion to Minas Tirith. The siege will most likely begin with the orc armies of Minas Morgul," she pointed to its location on the map. "They are expendable, able to wait out the beginning days of the siege, while chipping away at the city's outer defenses. I do not foresee your Rohirrim having trouble breaking their lines," she said assuredly.

Theodon nodded at this positive acknowledgement, "And Easterlings?" Theodon queried, wondering if Rohan's past enemies would be met again on these fields.

"The majority of the Easterlings armies are set to march on Mirkwood and further North," her eyes shifted momentarily to Legolas, "It is the Haradrim who will go South to Gondor."

"Southrons," Eomer remarked, knowing of these men. They were the ancient enemies of Gondor.

Vez nodded, "And they will have Mûmakil."

Aragorn mentioned to Merry quietly, "Oliphaunts." None had seen such beasts West before, though rumors of their size and strength had reached them.

"Our horses can out pace them my lord," the one elderly man spoke to Theodon confidently.

"Perhaps, if they are running in the opposite direction," Vezely replied slightly amused at the thought. "The Black Serpent Suladan is a smart general," knowing of the man who led the Harad, "He does not rely on the beast's size alone to do the job as his predecessors once did. Their ankles and tusks will be reinforced with wooden spikes and chains. They are trained well to sweep horses off the ground and trample them with their feet. You may yet dodge their attempts, but over a dozen archers will be perched high in towers on their backs to rain arrows down on you."

"We can bring them down, we have our own archers," the other adviser added reassuringly.

"They are large targets, no doubt, but they are not easily brought down. Arrows shot from below do not penetrate their thick hides," Vezely replied.

"What strategy do you suggest?" Theodon queried.

Vezely was glad to be asked, though she could offer little, "Hold your line and break theirs, aim for their heads, especially their eyes, knock down their drivers, but there is little other advice I can give."

"Orcs, Mûmakil, what else?" Theodon inquired slightly overwhelmed by this information.

"There is one other force that if I were Sauron I would send into this battle," she said rounding the table while her eyes perused the map of Pelennor Fields in front of her, suddenly feeling as the general she once was, "This is only intuition, but he has infantry and the Harad's Mûmakil, so he will want balance with horsemen. With the majority of the Easterling forces North, the Variags of Khand, who have maintained their independence despite Easterling consolidation, might yet meet us on the field."

"The Variags?" Eomer questioned, not knowing much about them.

"Chariot riders, berserkers, axe-wielders," she said before looking briefly at Gimli who might appreciate meeting fellow axe-men on the battlefield, "They were once allies of the Wainriders, and for a brief time enemies of the Balchoth. They are not to be underestimated nor is their leader, who is rumored to be one of the undead."

"Undead?" Theodon spoke concerned.

"Sauron's privileged men, given unnaturally long stretches of life to perfect their trade. I don't usually take stock in rumors, preferring to see evidence with my own eyes or the words of those I trust. But the resistance could never infiltrate the Variags' forces to ground them in truth. If this is so, he or she," Vez added 'she' simply to prove a point, "Will be hard to kill, as will the Nazgul, if they decide to join us."

After a moment of thought, Theodon responded, "Chariots," hoping to focus on the province of men, "Good to know, there are strategies for this."

Vez nodded, "Indeed," for she knew many.

Looking over the map in front of him, Theodon continued to take in this content before graciously replying. "All this information is valuable, if we are called to aid Gondor, we will be better prepared for what might meet us. For that, Rohan is grateful."

Vezely bowed her head to him and then acknowledged the other men at the council with a nod, Eomer included. She was grateful she could carry on the resistance's work in some small way.

"And we may again seek your advice," Theodon added after a moment, considering her understanding of warfare should not be devalued or dismissed, though such a request made Eomer and his older advisors shift slightly.

"I would be honored to provide it," Vezely replied slightly surprised, for she could not deny the pleasure holding such council had provided her.

After the meeting, Vezely left the Great Hall to stand on the veranda, facing East, thinking of the lands far away that she knew well.

Meanwhile, Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli convened to discuss the meeting.

"Didn't spare 'em any details, did she?" Gimli said gruffly at the magnitude of information relayed.

"One thing is for certain, if Rohan does not ride to aid, Gondor is lost," Aragorn noted concerned.

Legolas shared his concern, "And time is of the essence." The waiting would be difficult for all of them.

Merry made his way to the outside veranda, finding Vez standing there, facing away from him with her arms crossed. She sensed his presence, and spoke to him before he got to her side, "Your friend is lucky Merry, for war will meet him while we must wait with uncertainty."

"If you call that luck," he replied sarcastically.

She smiled at him before asking, "How are your sword skills?"

He had not anticipated being asked about being battle ready, "Practiced," he said uncertain, knowing they were not warrior-level.

She spoke encouragingly, "Don't underestimate what you can do. You have a distinct advantage of swiftness due to your size, making you twice the harder target to hit."

"For Mûmakil, perhaps," he replied seemingly unconvinced, but inside he felt slightly proud having an acknowledged strength, even if it was not yet fully realized.

"I had forgotten such beasts are only legend here. They are incredible creatures, bred evil by men, though they need not be so," she started to think of their alternative nature, if tamed not for war purposes.

"Are they really as big as they say?" He asked curious.

She looked behind her at the Golden Hall, sizing it up, "This hall may house the height of one."

Merry looked at it wide-eyed, "Indeed they are then," he said in verification of the tales.

"The jungles of the Far Harad are not pleasant by any means, especially when you consider that Mûmakil are not even predators. I am just grateful the Haradrim have not tamed other beasts from it," she said truthfully.

"It is a far cry from the Shire where we may have pigs the size of wagons, but nothing quite the size of a hobbit hole," he added.

Vez smiled, "The Shire? This is where you hail from?"

"Aye, it's not much against the expanses of Rohan or the woods of Lothlorien, but it's home," he said proudly.

"Sometimes traveling from ones home makes you more appreciative of it, or at least I have been told," she said.

He couldn't disagree with such an assertion. He then asked, "Do you have a home you consider as such?"

"Not really," she replied truthfully, "I have been nomadic for most of my life, but the East in general is my home, despite being born in the West."

"Have you found yourself more appreciative of the East then?" he queried her further.

It was a question she had to consider, "Maybe, for I have grown more concerned for its future. For if the powers of Mordor are defeated, the East will be in disarray. Peace will need to be reestablished under a different banner." Not wanting to dwell on these thoughts, she asked, "Tell me of this Shire, where you and Pippin are from, for I wish to know of a place that grows persons of such high spirits."

Merry was appreciative to answer such a request, and grateful not to spend the afternoon alone. He was not sure of his position in what remained of the fellowship now with Pip away, if he would be passed over while all the others left for battle. He felt useless, even if his friends would never say so.

Later that day Vez would find herself back in the Golden Hall to enjoy a modest meal of stew with Merry, spending the meal discussing food and food oddities.

"...I do not understand how hobbits can eat so much and yet be so small," Vez said to him.

"And equally undefined is how elves eat so little and grow so tall and strong," Merry replied undeterred, "Of course, for someone who eats bugs..."

"I never subsisted on bugs!" Vez decried his accusation. "I only mentioned that some taste like chicken."

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were soon to join them, after having spent the afternoon discussing the information Vezely relayed to Theodon that morning. They had not expected to find the two of them laughing hysterically.

"Well this is a mighty festive crew," Gimli said as they approached, amused at their jolliness.

Their laughter slowly ceased, but their smiles remained. Vez attempted to regain her usual serious composure and found her eyes suddenly locking with Legolas's, whose smile was elicited by viewing the life that was previously radiating from her; a side of her he had not seen, for her cheeks were flushed and she looked generally happy. He noted that it pleased him to see her so.

"Vez here was just telling me that in certain parts of the East, bugs make up the diet," Merry explained, "Can you imagine? And I thought ol' Gaffer's stew was the worst cuisine in Middle Earth."

"It is not common of course, but when the land is barren of all else," she said, a small smile still on her face.

"That does not sound appetizing," Gimli said sitting across from them, "Nor does this," he added, looking disappointed at the plain stew on the table.

"It too tastes like chicken," Merry blurted, still amused at the previous remark.

Vez started laughing again, shaking her head at the hobbit beside her who amused her so.

"Hmm," Gimli cocked his eyebrow suspiciously, wondering if they had been smoking.

While eliciting more pleasant exchange on food, it also led to the opportunity for the trio to question Vez further on some finer details she may have elided over, one of which was the Variags and their leader. While she could offer them more information on their tribe, she could not on their leader, nor would she reveal her own suspicion of him being her former second in command. Perhaps she was again presenting herself as detached from the subject; a position noted by Legolas later that evening.


	13. Complicated

Hello! A shorter chapter (sorry!), but a lot of info and a good stopping point. Thank you again for all your reviews and follows. I hope to make this an unexpected and interesting story for all you!

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**Chapter 14 Complicated**

The stars were high and Edoras had grown quiet. Vez stood alone on the veranda, facing East in contemplation. She was rolling the gold coin she had won in the gambling match across the back and through the inside of her fingers while contemplating the event that was on the temporal horizon; contemplating whether her suspicions would come true and she would meet her second in command on the battle field in front of the White City. Anger inevitably marked her demeanor, for his betrayal and deeds against her could not be swayed from her mind.

She had trusted Öldür, the Killer, as her second in command for various reasons: he was smart, able to strategize alongside her without fatigue, brutal, for he was of Variag descent, a clan with enough cultural similarities to the Balchoth that Vez felt as with kin, and he was mildly infatuated with her. While she never returned the interest in heart, she used it to her advantage for he often did not question her authority and if he did she could sway him otherwise. She knew she need not play with the hearts of men, for she had enough accrued power from her skill and authority as the hand of Sauron, but she would at times milk the advantages of her blood-given beauty if she gauged the situation called for it. At times it even amused her. The "Evil Beauty;" men in taverns would speak of her as such when they had enough to drink.

For this to have backfired was ironic in many ways. For Öldür loved her, but loved her army and power more. She had underestimated him; growing hubristic in her control and overlooking any possibilities of her position being disposed of by him or by Sauron. She was alone with him before she was taken away to Dol Guldur, after she had been beaten to near unconsciousness by men who proclaimed allegiance. He confessed he had been feeding Sauron information of what he perceived as the weakness of her kindred - namely her growing desire to avoid spilling innocents' blood. He had his eye on her position for a long time, despite his feelings for her. And so with her body broken, he stole what was left of her dignity, and finished by slicing her ear off, saying, "You will forever remain mine, for none may now look upon you as beautiful." In a way she had remained his, for it was a scar not easily covered, deeds never to be forgotten, and any desire to be looked upon as beautiful remained dissolved. While destroying Sauron was beyond her skill, snuffing out this man's existence was not. Such thoughts occupied her mind when night fell, and now more than ever.

Legolas would join her side as all the others had fallen asleep, desiring to exchange kinder words again after having mended their friendship that morning. Despite her not being a typical elf, he did find her company refreshing; having not spent time around his kin since Lothlorien. She understood some of what the others could not, namely the sleepless nights and ageless time elves endured. Yet it was her atypical nature that he found in many ways more refreshing.

Vezely had stopped her gesture with the coin and clinched it in her fist, turning her thoughts on the fair elf who now stood beside her. She again was calmed by his presence and the anger that consumed her just prior dissipated. She didn't know what made his company so soothing. With her mind still on the pressing matters, she said to him steadily while scanning the Eastern expanses before them, "There is nothing worse than waiting to ride to war."

"Perhaps, but the company makes such a wait bearable," he replied pleasantly.

She smiled over at him, hoping his words were true, she then said warmly, "I am glad to have your company at night, for I am too often left to my own thoughts."

"Yet rest would also do us well in the coming days," he said assuredly.

She nodded to agree, "It would," then saying in wonder and amusement, "It will be an incredible battle, and one I have been anticipating my whole life, though not from the position I now stand." She turned to him, "It is strange, to look upon ones world from outside it and to know you will meet it again on fields that use to mark the maps of your former trajectory."

"But you stand here with a new purpose and just cause, one already put to service. All are grateful for the information you provided to King Theodon today," he noted appreciatively.

"That was the desire of the Blue Wizards; that I might somehow carry on the resistance's mission. So the West would not underestimate the forces that are coming," she was glad of these tidings, but worried she provided unfounded information, "Though I hope I did not overstep by mentioning my suspicions on the Variags' presence."

"You should trust your intuitions," Legolas said.

"I am not sure if they are intuitions or strategizing on the part of the enemy," she replied uncertain. "I have heard elves are perceptive, but I was raised to be pragmatic. If I can't see it, it does not exist. Lives can be lost on intuition alone."

"Besides strategy, what makes you think these forces will come?" he asked, hoping to parse out her feelings on it.

She was uncertain if she wanted to share the details for they were more personal than she liked to admit. Yet, she had bridged into a new understanding with Legolas. She did not need to present herself differently, for he knew where she currently stood on matters and perhaps, he could help her come to terms with these instincts. She recounted, "These thoughts started forty years ago when rumors of the Variags' leader were passed via a communication from our spies in Khand. It was unknown to me at the time that Sauron was bestowing prolonged life to his privileged. I immediately began to wonder why Khand, why have this undead man lead the Variags? But our information was scarce and grew scarcer when the Variags demanded independence from the Easterlings Confederation and were quickly allotted it. Their leader must have had enough clout, for other tribes requested and were denied. As I wondered who this leader was, my past continually came to me as an answer, for my second in command was of Variag decent. And the promise of meeting him again has not left me. Are these thoughts in vain?" she queried.

"No, but they are heavy," he said considering them, "And if they come into fruition?"

"I will kill him," she said without emotion looking out in front of her.

"The undead are not easily destroyed," he replied carefully.

She knew this, but it didn't deter her determination in this task. "No, they are not. I do not expect someone of your ilk to understand, but I cannot accept his longevity," she would not explain her conviction.

Thoughts of a number of reasons stalled Legolas in responding, though he could not access this history exactly, he said assuming, "You were close to him."

She shifted her position and crossed her arms, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the conversation. "In some ways. I foolishly trusted him and he betrayed me," her voice sounded detached, "He took more from me than my ear and my army that night."

He did not question her further, knowing now it was not a polite subject to do so, "I would not deter you from such a path, but hope you will not deny assistance if given."

She nodded, not wanting to linger on the subject she concluded, "These are only thoughts that keep my mind occupied, especially when darkness falls. Premonition or not, this battle will happen. I just have to be the best warrior I can," she said looking at him, lightening her mood.

In solidarity he added, "It is both of our charges."

"Was it always so?" she asked wondering of his past.

"Not always, my father perhaps would have desired me to take a less precarious trade. But with our kingdom being a place in need of such skill, he did not deter me in my path," he recounted.

"And if you return in a time of peace and there is no need for such skill to be sharpened?" she queried, parsing through her own future while doing so.

"Rebuild and tend the woods that bore me. Peace need not be spent inactive, even for someone of my ilk," he said amused, noting he had heard her label him as such before.

She smiled slightly embarrassed for perhaps she did take a jab at his prince title, though without ill intent, "Apologies, I did not intend to mock, only acknowledge that our worlds of experience differ so."

"I take no offense, for what you say of our differences is true. Although I am not without ability to be understanding of such experiences if shared," he said politely.

"You have already proven this to me. But my past is full of unbecoming experiences and some even I am ashamed of," she paused, not sure if she should say so, "Perhaps, I care how you perceive me."

He liked the thought of this acknowledgement, "You need not step softly, for your past cannot sway me from my current perception," he said warmly, catching her eyes in his for an elongated moment. It was odd for him to realize he was again drawn to her gaze, and he grew somewhat embarrassed that he had done so. He had told himself not to allow such feelings to overtake him, for where they could lead was uncertain. "Though we need not linger on it this night in hopes of lighter conversation," he said, breaking the silence and his gaze from hers, "For I wonder, if peace should find its way into your life, where would you locate yourself?"

Vezely had not considered her future plans in peaceful times, "This is not a comfortable question for someone raised as I. For the Balchoth live and die by the sword. So I cannot imagine myself as anything other than a warrior; even if it was to be so had Sauron not interfered."

"Nor can I," he said somewhat agreeing, though an alternate reality intrigued his thoughts. "You have a general's spirit, as witnessed this morning."

She smiled appreciatively, "I do not deny that I miss such tasks, even if my armies were marching for Sauron."

"You did not a hold a leadership role in the resistance?" he asked slightly surprised.

She laughed at the thought, "No, I held no rank. I had to follow orders, or at least that was the intent of the Blue Wizards. Though I often worked alone, taking on small information gathering missions, interceptions, and the like. I did my job, didn't question authority, well, most of the time," she smirked, "Besides, I was somewhat responsible for the deaths of many of the member's ancestors. For them to follow me, it would not have boded well." She looked at him wondering, "You did not expect this?"

"You mean, you following orders?" He said slyly.

She laughed, then saying sarcastically, "You are not the first to be amused by this."

"I can imagine," he replied considering, "Though this is not what I expected."

"Though it should be so," she continued more serious, "For it was their fight and I had less heart in being counted amongst them. Besides, the world of men is no longer mine to exist in as such."

He was surprised to hear her say so, though he knew not if she felt she belonged amongst his kin.

She then added, as if knowing what he was thinking about, "Yet an Elvish existence appears overly complicated."

He looked at her skeptically, for it is difficult to view one's own world as such. "Explain what mean by complicated?"

"It is a far cry from living and dying by the sword," she said amused. "I cannot yet see myself fitting comfortably within it," she said assuredly.

He smiled at her strange thoughts, "You should not forsake what you have yet to experience," though he more so assumed she feared acceptance.

"Perhaps," she said considering what such an experience would curtail. "I was wondering if this night you would be willing to tell me more about Elvish history? For if I remember correctly, at Helm's Deep you were about to detail the ruin of Doriath."

The request was heartwarming to hear, for he enjoyed storytelling and to do so for her, whom the stories had yet to be passed to, brought him joy. As he spoke of this history, of King Thingol and Melian the Maia, their daughter Luthien, her love for the mortal Beren, their son Dior, and the kingslayings and turmoil that occurred in the years between and after, that he realized she did know her own connection to this history. For it was not until he came to the Sack of Doriath, where her father and his twin were taken by the servants of Celegorm and left in the forest to die, that he noted her mind processing the information. "...Elwing, the daughter of Dior and Nimloth, escaped. She would become the mother of Lord Elrond, but the twin sons, Eluréd and Elurín were thought to have perished in the forests where they were left. Your presence proves this was not entirely the case."

She looked at him, her eyes appeared uncertain of how to respond for she was not expecting this dark history to lead to her own. "I did not know," she said slowly and somewhat bewildered, "The Blue Wizards only specified my connection to Elrond, saying I would come to understand the importance of my lineage in time. But I cared not for the subject, for such connections seemed distant."

"They are important, making you descendant of the High King of the Sindar and of the Maiar," he knew such a connection was not slight. "That is why, as I mentioned before, your bloodline is legendary."

"Tragic is more like it," she said bluntly, seemingly unimpressed by such revelations on the titles of her ancestors, "And my history seems to fit quite well in one that is so full of death and misfortune. Yet it does not explain why my blood father hid his survival from history," she said slightly perturbed.

"Perhaps I should not have been the one to have told you, for I do not hold all the answers," he said concerned.

"No, I am glad you did," she turned to him, and placed her hand on his side arm, her eyes showing appreciation, "For much more makes sense. I felt unrightfully privileged by those who would redeem me and I knew not why. But it does not make me anymore accepting or deserving of such aid, for blood titles mean nothing to one of the East." She tried not to let her irritation linger and knew there was more history she needed to know. "But the story continues into territory you do know. I did want to know more about Elrond, and if you could share his history, I would be most appreciative?" As she was removing her touch from his arm, he caught her hand in his.

"I will tell you more, but know I believe that you were deserving of such aid, regardless of your bloodline," he said to her assuredly, catching her eyes in his and keeping her from speech. He held her hand for reassurance of his words.

While skeptical of such tidings, she could not deny the feelings his touch coupled with these words evoked. "Coming from you, that means a lot to me," she said wholeheartedly.

"There is yet hope amongst the ill fortune of your history," he said with a look of optimism, before letting go of her hand and continuing the history, "For the bloodline continued anew with Lord Elrond and his daughter Arwen Undómiel..." He explained to her further the founding of Imladris, eventually getting to contemporary concerns, including the relationship between Aragorn and his daughter; now she knew who the jewel around Aragorn's neck belonged to. But inevitably this history would require him to go over the choice of the half-elven, one which only her bloodline had, for she queried such a relationship and how it would end. Here he was careful with how he worded his explanation.

"Such a choice can be made?" she said skeptically, "Or is it made for you?"

"It said that the choice of kindred can be made by you alone, only when you deem it so," he spoke while trying to grasp her thoughts.

Feeling somewhat overwhelmed by this information, she decidedly brushed them off as insignificant, saying sarcastically, "As I said, an Elvish existence is overly complicated."

He sensed her repressed tension, "It need not be."

She looked out on the expanses again, "True this may be, but it is of no consequence now. To speak of the future amidst the possibility of death," she then laughed slightly while saying, "I may yet end up wandering the Halls of Mandos for my sins are too great."

He looked at her surprised, for he was unaware she knew of the possibility of her fëar being denied entrance to Aman if she were to be killed in battle.

"The Blue Wizards did not speak of the choice of my bloodline, but presented me with where I stood in terms of my sins," she explained further, "I figured it was another means to threaten me into fighting for their resistance, but I was not stirred by it then."

"And now?" he said feeling slightly sorrowful for her predicament.

A few moments of thought shook her from her previous attempt at detachment, she looked at him, marked strain in her eyes, "I should not have come West, for I feel the weight of this fate upon me."

"I do not believe this fate will be yours," he said with conviction, then recalling, "Courage, strength..."

"Death," she said this word along with him, quickly recognizing the mantra of her clan.

"But not your own," he added with a small smile, remembering these exact words were a great comfort to him during his moment of despair at Helm's Deep.

"Not your own," she nodded with stirring pride. "You're right, it is not time to despair. We will see this through and then perhaps," she added with slight amusement, "We can truly have lighter conversations."

"I look forward to that day," he said truthfully.

"So do I," she replied, feeling strangely hopeful that such a day may come. They stood beside each other until sunrise, taking in the stars before they disappeared in the sunlight. They then parted ways as Vezely went to tend Gizik, hoping to take her for a short ride; for she was a horse unaccustomed to being cooped up in a stable. Upon entering she found Eowyn tending to her own horse.

"Good morning," she said to her pleasantly, "You are awake early."

"I could not sleep," Eowyn replied with a small smile.

"You are troubled, for these are dark times and dark thoughts are not easily kept at bay," Vezely replied in commiseration. "Come with me for a morning ride, it will help settle your mind."

Eowyn was grateful for the invitation and accepted it, "...We can take Dulsan's Path. I have not been there in ages, for even venturing slightly outside these walls was deemed unsafe. Now our worries are not so close to home."

"Still," Vezely noted, "You should bring along the sword you hid in your horse's stable." For she had seen Eowyn adjusting its location upon entering and rightly assumed she was preparing to take it with her if they would leave for Minas Tirith.

Eowyn looked slightly surprised Vezely had seen her do so, though she held no concern of admonishment and attached her sword to her horse's saddle.

The two women would take a winding path that led behind the stables; it took them down to a back gate and the plains that stretched outside it. Their departure, however, did not go unnoticed by the some of the guards who stood watch over the Golden Hall.


	14. Trail Rides and War Games

Hope a longer chapter makes up for a short one last week! I'm glad to know people appreciate that I'm not rushing it. Please enjoy!

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**Chapter 14 - Trail Rides and War Games**

Dulsan's Path led them through several small canyon trails and gradually up a mountainside to a vista overlooking the plains north of Edoras. It was a comfortable ride, and easy on their horses, allowing them to chat freely along the way.

"...My father used to take Eomer and I along this path when we kids," Eowyn said remembering fondly, "Some of my best memories were climbing this hillside. Eomer always insisted we'd race to the top, much to the worry of my mother when she found out our routine. She assumed either one or both of us would return haven fallen and broken something, or worse. Though we never did fall, and I often beat him to the top," she said proudly with a smile.

Vezely was cheered by her memories, for they seemed to represent an idyllic version of youth, "It is good we came," she said pleasantly, "For these memories are unduly welcomed."

"They are. Like I said, I have not been on this trail in some time, even here we feared orc attacks," she said still in a light mood.

They dismounted their horses and walked them over to feed on some grass nearby, while they went to the hill's crest to observe the view.

"It is nice to be reminded of my father," she said thinking back, "Of happier times."

Vezely had assumed her parents were deceased, though she knew not the cause.

After a few moments, Eowyn spoke concerned, "He is protective of me. Eomer. I do not blame him, but at times I think he still sees me as that young girl who never failed to follow his request to race him to the top. I do not think he would understand my desire to also protect those I love."

"You mean your desire to fight in this war," Vezely said knowingly.

"Is it wrong to hold such ambitions?" she asked for affirmation.

"No, you have every reason to desire so and as much ability to fight as any man," Vezely said steadily. "It is the expectations of others that hold you from your cause."

"Expectations," she said exasperatingly, "I feel they have led me to sitting idly by while those around me fall into ruin," she thought grimly of Theodon's takeover by Sarumon, her endurance of Grima, and prior, her mother's grief-stricken destruction after the death of her father. "I regret not being a woman of action, succumbing to the cage those expectations would put me in. You are as such, choosing your own path, not caring what others may think."

Vez was surprised to hear admiration, but felt it was misplaced, "Do not envy me, Eowyn. For my own cage extends far beyond the dungeons of Dol Guldur. I have long lived without care, which undoubtedly has its benefits, but it is a lonely road and sparse on comfort. You may have expectations, but they also extend from those who love you."

She smiled slightly while internalizing this truism, "Yet I desire the love of one who would not hold me from my this path."

"Ah, but now you are speaking of a different type of love," Vez replied wondering.

Eowyn smiled slightly embarrassed of her thoughts shifting.

Vez continued, "It is my hope that you find such a relationship where expectations of gender do not follow. Women are often too eager to please men, and men too easily receive. Marriage can be the biggest cage of all if expectations are unequal."

"You speak knowingly," Eowyn wondered.

"I do not," Vez added dryly, "For neither marriage nor love have been of interest. I speak from observation of the fickle hearts of men who treat women as disposable pleasures rather than honorable pursuits. Dishonorable men, dishonorable situations," she then added with a smirk, "Both of which I assume you are likely to avoid in your position."

Eowyn knew not how to respond for such dealings were outside her experience, "I would hope so," she then asked, wondering of her current trajectory, "Though knowing the truth behind another's emotions and whether they hold the same feelings for you remains complicated."

The truth in this observation turned Vezely's thoughts to Legolas, for she wondered how he viewed her, even if her own feelings for him were unclear.

"Apologies," Eowyn said politely, noting her friends sudden retreat into her thoughts, "I am going on about such a trite subject at such a time as this. For an elf, this must seem foolish"

"I do not believe my kindred finds love foolish," Vezely replied sincerely, hoping she did not feel silly for her speech. "From what I understand, love and the marriage bond are sacred and not entered into lightly without equal consideration between partners. Perhaps with even more concern, considering life span." Though information she held on this was sparse, this is what she gathered by the histories Legolas told her.

Eowyn was relieved for her to acknowledge this, but knew not of Vez's position. She asked, "Is it true, that elves can die of a broken heart?"

Vez looked at her surprised at this suggestion, saying steadily, "This I do not know." The possible truth of it unsettled her.

"It is what I have heard," she answered, "You can only die in battle or of a broken heart. It verifies what you say, that elves hold such emotions sacred. Yet your own interest remains void?"

"I am not what one would call marriageable," Vezely stated sarcastically, realizing her own take on herself.

"But you are not undeserving of love," Eowyn said with concern.

Vezely replied kindly, "I will take this assessment with levity from a friend who is kind enough to say so."

"I have seen affection in the eyes of your companion," Eowyn said speaking of Legolas.

Vez looked at her puzzled, then asking, "You speak of Legolas?"

"You acknowledge it too then?" she asked undeterred, taking the quick response as proof.

Vez shook her head, saying assuredly, "He has been kind to offer me advice and teach me of the history of my kindred, but our differences are far too great and my past far too disruptive for such emotions to take root. His affection is no more than that of a friend, I assure you."

Eowyn thought otherwise, but did not pressure her further about it. Their conversation would turn to other topics before heading back to Edoras that afternoon.

About halfway back, however, they were apprehended by two of Rohan's guards. "Lady Eowyn, we were told to find you and escort you back immediately," the guard said with a sense of duty, after given Vez a brief, but stern gaze.

"By whose orders?" Eowyn said annoyed at having their conversation interrupted.

"Lord Eomer," he replied, straightening his posture.

Eowyn practically rolled her eyes, then looked at Vez, saying to her sarcastically, "I will need to remind myself of the fuel for such protection," for she was not happy that her brother had created an issue over her leaving the city with a friend; not to mention a friend whose company provided plenty of protection to begin with.

Vez laughed slightly at her words, though wondered of the fuss such a short trip may have caused. They followed the guards back to Edoras in silence at first, before Vez decided to amuse herself.

She rode Gizik close to one of the guard's horses, her head held high as her eyes roamed over the man's body, as if observing a rare specimen; it made him shift uncomfortably in his saddle. She then brought Gizik around quickly in front of them and slowed her gallop to trot next to the other guard; handling the horse with expert control. Both her and her horse exuded overt authority as she questioned them, "What are your names?"

"Gárbald," the man replied undeterred, with his face forward, "And this is Fasthelm." They continued their pace alongside her.

"You look to be able soldiers," she said appearing to praise them while staying one trot ahead, "How many others were sent?"

"Eight rode out this morning," Gárbald replied solidly.

"Eight?" Vez called back to Eowyn amused, looking back to her. "Brother was worried." Eowyn knew Vezely was having a go with the men. She then asked, "And you two were sent north?"

"That is correct," the man replied, uncertain of the trajectory of her conversation.

"We have been gone since dawn and the sun is high. We did not travel far nor did we take an unknown path. If you were sent north as you say, and have only just now set upon us, there appears a discrepancy in time. Is it that you were skirting orders for a morning's rest?" Her tone and phrasing mimicked a general's, as if an undesirable answer would imbue consequences.

The two soldiers looked worriedly at each other, "That is not the case," Gárbald finally answered.

After giving him a look of overt suspicion, she called behind her, "Eowyn, I feel that it is us who came upon these men, and not the other way around."

Eowyn brought her horse forward, gaining a sense of Vez's mission, "It would appear so, for they have not gone far north if they were indeed sent that way."

"We have been searching, my lady," he replied to Eowyn politely. "I assure you."

"I am not sure if I can return such assurance to my brother," Eowyn said steadily, then saying with feigned pity, "He is most unforgiving of soldiers who do not follow his orders." This caused the guards to visibly worry.

"We can provide them an option, however," Vez consulted with Eowyn, appearing to consider the guards' plight, "If we return without their aid, we can absolve any discussion of their latency. They can safely say they searched a different path from our own thus avoiding certain admonishment."

"I find that most reasonable," Eowyn replied graciously to her, then telling the guards, "I am happy to offer you both such as option."

The guards searched each other's faces and not seeing any other way, they conceded. Gárbald said politely, "Thank you my lady. That would be most kind of you."

"It's settled then," Vez exclaimed taking her horse out front, with Eowyn following, and then saying dryly to the guards behind her, "I would not return too late if I were you."

While they were some distance away from them, Eowyn spoke in praise, "That was brilliant."

Vez smirked, grateful her scheme worked, "And you played along perfectly. Now we can continue our conversation."

They both enjoyed the moment, musing about the guards' bewilderment, and continue their talk from prior, before Eowyn stated upon view of Edoras, "I have a few words I would like to exchange with Eomer."

"Perhaps we should gauge the extent of the commotion us taking a morning trail ride has garnered before doing so," Vezely said considering.

"Keep hidden our knowledge of their concern?" Eowyn thought through this suggestion, "Whatever that concern could be eludes me."

"We may find out sooner than later," Vezely said wryly, seeing Eomer leaving the back gate and galloping towards them. She noted he had a most displeased look on his face.

As he approached the two, Eowyn kept her pace and head forward as he slowed his stead to walk beside hers, purposefully ignoring Vez's presence. "You have been gone since dawn," Eomer spoke as if the information was unknown.

"I know," Eowyn stated assuredly, "And it is high noon."

"You presented no one with knowledge of your departure," he added, heightening his tone.

"Yet our departure did not go without notice, even if such information did not come from my own mouth," she quipped back.

"Do you not think through the consequences of your actions? These paths are not safe, you could have been hurt," he said worried but also slightly angered.

"Hurt?" Eowyn played off the suggestion, "Your concern amuses me brother. Perhaps you should rephrase that with reference to my traveling companion."

Eomer's eyes narrowed on Vez, but did not answer her questions.

"Or is that why there is concern to begin with?" Eowyn was perceptive; she knew Eomer had no trust for Vez.

"I ask," he said trying to sound reasonable and lightening his tone, "That you think before you take actions which could concern others."

Eowyn did not reply but trotted her horse slightly faster ahead, leaving Eomer beside Vez, who felt odd as the third party of sibling strife.

"You are a bad influence on her," he said to her boldly when Eowyn was out of ear range.

"So are you," Vez replied back just as bold.

"I _care _about my sister," he replied to this assertion with conviction, "An emotion perhaps you know not."

She laughed slightly at the remark, but not being deterred by it as an insult she said, "Before you assume a mal plot to turn your sister against you, assess that your _caring _may not already be doing so."

Eomer internalized this statement as they continued toward the gate, foregoing a reply as Vez continued ahead of him to the stables. Leaving Gizik she returned to their communal quarters finding it empty of her companions, though they had left their weapons. She assumed they had gone for lunch. Instead of joining them, she grabbed her rucksack from the corner, finding her memory book, a badly damaged brush with several bristles missing and a glass inkwell with partially dried ink inside. She placed them on one end of a long wooden table, where spanning much of its length sat Legolas's long bow, accompanied by his quiver set; marked perfection of weaponry and artistry. She momentarily admired its design, looking over the quiver's intricate gold overlay of two intertwined peacocks. She removed her sword from her side and placed it in an open space next to his bow before she sat down; adjusting it so their curves lined up perfectly. She noted she liked the thought of them sitting there together.

Sitting down she opened her tattered book to find several loose folded sheets she inserted in an attempt to keep them flat. They were marked with information concerning the West, from the estimated numbers and projected campaigns of Sauron's forces, time tables and routes to take through Rhovanion, to layouts of tentative battlegrounds. Many pages included notes she had written on war tactics and strategy. Finding the yet blank layout of Pelennor Fields she attempted to draw in where she would place the Haradhrim and the Variags in relation to the orcs, querying their numbers against Theodon's projections. Her mind filtered through this information and she hastily marked up the map before she was stalled by the river Anduin, snaking across the southeastern corner. It concerned her and she knew not why. With this break in her thought process she looked up again from her paperwork to the weapons on the tabletop right beside her workspace. The detailed carving of silver leaves across the length of Legolas's bow drew Vezely's gaze and her hand stretched from her papers towards it; she felt a sudden desire to feel its grooves. Before her fingertips could touch it, however, her hand was caught by another's.

She looked up to find Legolas smiling down at her, for he had done it again, quietly sneaking into the room without her noticing his presence, making her feel incredibly incompetent in her supposedly superb Elvish senses. Her look showed that she was slightly displeased by this ambush, for which he knew, marked by his sudden superior expression, he succeeded.

Vez smirked while turning her head away from him, and her eyes fell upon her hand still in his, for he had not yet released it. Before words were exchanged, his eyes had moved to the mass of papers she had haphazardly spread across the table. "What is all this?" he asked, still pleased by his victory.

She then realized she had created a bit of a mess with her papers, and she quickly removed her hand from his in order to straighten them into piles. "War games, amongst other notes," she said, hastily folding a map of Mirkwood, which was marked with similar battle trajectories, in order to place it back into her memory book and out of his sight.

He took a seat next to her, gently sliding his bow to the side. "And this?" he said, of the book she now held, for it appeared well worn and well traveled.

She looked at him, realizing there was something she desired to question him on, and this current meeting provided the perfect timing. "It is filled with the recollections of my past, all forgotten after my captivity. As my mind refilled and needed a place to pause and reconnect the pieces, I wrote them down in here," she flipped its worn pages, revealing all Rhunic shorthand script, which Legolas could not read despite his vast knowledge of languages. She turned to where she had scrawled Elven script next to the Rhunic phonetics she had deduced from hearing the Forest River's song. "There is something I have been meaning to ask you. I know it is probably not correct…"

He gently took the book from her hands, impressed by the immensity of its writings which filled the entirety of its pages and wondering of the stories it contained. After a moment of reading through her Elvish text, he confirmed the transcription, "You have three-fourths of the song here, but the end is missing."

"Missing? But that is all I can remember hearing. I am sure of it," she said concerned, looking again over the script she wrote.

"Listen to the Forest River's song. Use not your head, but your heart. Your heart will call you home and there you will stay and weep no more for Autumn's end," he recalled the verse, speaking it softly in Elvish to her. "It is beautiful, is it not?" he asked as she was thinking it through.

She was caught more to the meaning of the words than their beauty; she felt it spoke to her personally. "That it is," her voice said meekly.

"Share with me this dream in which you first heard this song," he asked her curious.

She remained unsure of its truth, but explained what she thought occurred, "It was during my healing sleep in Mirkwood. I remember that I awoke ankle deep in warm ocean water with soft white sands beneath me, and waves crashing softly on the shore, but I could not move for fear held me there. Light shone all around me and I could only see the edge of a beach and a blurred darkness beyond. I heard a voice singing this song over and over, but only these verses. I felt connected to it as if I had heard it when I was young. I thought it could be my mother's but I do not have proof. Yet you say it is a song of your people?" she looked at him.

"It is a Woodelf lullaby. Your mother must have been of the Silvan clan. It is more than likely you were born in Mirkwood and taken from there," he said steadily, "But this was no dream. You were the verge of death, yet not allowed admittance to the Hall of Mandros where your kin are said to meet you. So it may well have been your mother's voice."

She solidified her thoughts, "For so long I wondered…"

"Your transcription is good," he added positively, his eyes going through the script in her book again, "Your writing, however…" he looked at her mischievously, again hoping to lighten her mood.

She laughed, "I know, it is lacking some grace. I began studying Elvish at request of Romestamo mostly, who said an elf without knowledge of Elvish would not do. Now I know he was priming to send me West all this time. I remember thinking I could never learn it. The books I was gifted were translations of Elvish into Westron, not into Easterling, complicating my understanding at times. But I suppose, if I find reason to write again, my script could improve." She cracked a smile.

"Do you not enjoy writing poetry?" he asked curiously, for elves were lyrical beings and enjoyed verse writing.

She laughed slightly at the thought, "I am not one to pause for words or sing songs such as this. Perhaps this is an Elvish trait I do not possess?" She asked wondering.

"It is rare," Legolas said seeming slightly surprised by this difference, for he never met an elf who did not have an interest in the beauty of forming words or singing songs, "Yet you are unlike any elf I have ever met," he said assuredly.

"Do such differences concern?" she added curiously.

"Not at all," he replied politely with a slight smile.

She returned his demeanor, adding reasoning to her differences, "It is not that the Balchoth have no songs or write no verses. My childhood was spent fighting, playing war games, riding. And I admit, I wanted to disassociate with what I knew were Elvish traits."

He looked at her curiously, "What do you mean?"

"Most speculated I was one of the Dark Elves of Dorwinion. Easterlings appreciate their wine, but not their ways. There is widespread distrust of Elves in Rhun," she said thinking of what often allotted her an outsider status.

"Distrust you inevitably also carried," he said thinking back to their first meeting.

She took her book and closed it, "I had no reason to trust my kin or any desire to be amongst them. Mirkwood was my first encounter with Elves, and it unsettled me in more ways than I'd like to admit. I remember uncomfortably thinking that your village was perfect in terms of living with nature."

"There should be no other way to live," he replied proudly. "Another reason why I would not settle into palace life and preferred patrolling with the Woodland guard."

"Your father's court is built into caverns, is it not?" she asked, surprisingly knowing this information.

"That is correct," his eyes showing some suspicious of how she knew this.

"Apologies, information gathered for tactical purposes long ago," she said quickly, somewhat ashamed of her former mal intent.

"And is it on that map you folded earlier?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

"I cannot get anything passed you," she said wryly.

"No you cannot," he agreed confidently.

"I thought I would spare you such details," she pulled the map from the back of her book, and handed it to him. He unfolded it and placed it on the table in front of him. His home territory was meticulously sketched out, but partitioned into segments with symbols of the armies who would descend upon them. His eyes parsed through the troop numbers, which were legible, being similar to common script. The forces were substantial and his heart immediately sank for his people.

She added carefully, "They intend to raze it and the forests of Lothlorien to the ground. To smoke out the Elvish armies and level the playing field." After saying this, she noted his solemn demeanor and placed her hand on top of his for comfort, gripping it slightly, "I am sorry," she said kindly.

Her touch uplifted him, and he turned his gaze to hers, "The forest can be re-grown, and lives not lost, re-sown. We will return there one day, and we will both be comforted by the Forest River's song."

All emotion drained from her face, for she had not expected this reply. The possibility of returning to Mirkwood was something she could not fathom coming true and if it did, she felt unworthy of admittance. She slowly removed her hand from his but he caught it in his own. Concern for her reaction marked his face, "Did I misspeak?"

"No," she said quietly, her eyes strained, "But talk of such a future stills my heart."

He would not let go of her hand, despite her light attempt at release. He pulled her hand gently towards his chest, cradling it there; he sensed her feelings of unworthiness and it pained him. "I would have it beat again with life anew. Do not fear a future where you are allowed such comforts."

Confused at his intent she replied bluntly, "Do not waste breath saying things out of pity," she could not accept his words or touch as anything else.

"It is not out of pity that such words are formed," he said, saddened that she thought so. He could sense her mind questioning his words and his touch, making him do the same. He desired her to trust him, to know his care for her ran deep. _How deep?_ He queried this again, and realized the feeling pulsing between his hand and hers was more than a touch felt between friends. The rationalist in him could not deny it any longer, for he knew he looked upon her as more than a friend and all the complications and discrepancies which inevitably marked any actualization of this emotion faded when he looked into her eyes.

"Then why do you touch me like this?" she asked quietly and with concern, inquiring not only about his words but his hand still intimately holding hers. For she remained just as uncertain of his intentions as when he allowed her sleeping body to rest against him that evening during their return from Isenguard; after they had shared details of their youth.

Before a response could be gathered, a slight, intentional cough broke them from their intimate gaze. Gimli had returned from lunch, followed closely by Merry, who was rubbing his pleased stomach before seeing the couple. Their appearance caused Vez to remove her hand from his and grab the map in front of them in order to refold it. "Good afternoon," she greeted them, as if nothing was out of order.

Legolas smiled slightly at the duo; disappointed that such a moment was broken though he knew not where it could have led. After just having settled his own feelings, a new worry entered his mind that perhaps she did not feel the same.

"Afternoon," Merry replied still cheered by the food, "Glad to see you weren't reprimanded by Eomer's guards." While they had heard the slight commotion given over Eowyn and Vezely's departure this morning, they all felt the worry was misplaced and were not concerned about whether they would return.

Vez smirked, then saying dryly, "I am surprised he sent eight guards to find us and we only came upon two and on the way home, no less. Doesn't fair well for soldier competence."

"You were not escorted back by two guards," Legolas queried, having noted their return from afar.

"No we were not," Vez said to him slyly, avoiding eye contact, "For despite their orders, we desired to continue our journey and conversation back here in private."

"You didn't?" Merry said intrigued.

Vez raised one eyebrow up, "We didn't what?" She waited a moment before saying proudly, "No, not by force, simply the wit of two women."

"Trouble as always," Gimli replied gruffly under his breath before going to take a seat at the table which was cluttered by weapons. Looking over them he said sardonically, "Hmm, elves must believe their weapons are too good to be placed on the floor."

Vez laughed slightly, while Legolas replied to his friend pompously, "If you were given an axe by the Lady of Lorien, you would not want to place it on the floor either."

"Is that where it's from?" Vez asked curious, as she reached over to remove her sword. "Lothlorien, I mean," for she did not want to seem nosy in inquiring as to why it was gifted.

He nodded in confirmation, before Gimli said in awe, "Aye, and there we looked upon the fairest in the land, and whose golden tresses I shall never forget."

Vez cocked one eyebrow up, looking at the dwarf as if he was a creature from another realm. Before she said something admonishing, however, Legolas asked her, "Do you know of Lady Galadriel?"

"I have heard her name in reference to the White Council," Vezely replied, "She is a bearer of one of the nine rings, but that is all I know. But she must be powerful if a dwarf speaks of an elf in such a way."

Realizing this, Gimli shifted his posture before Legolas added, "We spent some time there during our journey; a momentary respite from the troubles that continually overtook us."

"And then the troubles of eating only lembas started," Merry added unimpressed as a hobbit would be of meals lacking variety. Patting his full stomach from lunch he added cheerfully, "So glad to be back to real food."

"Can't disagree with that," Gimli conferred, pulling a toothpick from his pocket.

Vez smiled at their comments before she went to place her sword in the corner of the room near her rucksack. She realized again she knew little about the journey of this fellowship, and who they met or lost along the way. She felt strange asking details, however. Despite her time amongst them, she still felt as she did when they first met; that if she over inquired, it would imply she was a spy for Sauron. So much rested on the One Ring, and the task her companions set out on and the two that continued that journey. Keeping disinterested in specifics seemed preferable, as her own tasks were enough to occupy her mind.

"Those leaves on your bow mimic the leaf that clasps your cloaks," she noted while coming back to the table.

"Those were also gifts," Legolas stated, now admiring his bow in his hands.

She sat back down next to him, and he handed the bow over to her, which she took gently, surprised he allowed her its touch. "It is a bow of the Galadhrim, strung with a single strand of Lady Galadriel's hair, said to give strength and speed to the arrows it assists." He watched enchanted as she admired its details, watching as her fingers trail over the length of its carvings. He knew she had desired to do so before he stopped her.

"It is finely crafted indeed. A beautiful tool of death," she said in praise; a description which he had not heard before. Gently handing it back to him, she still did not look at him directly, for thoughts of their prior interrupted conversation forbid her.

Gimli who was busy picking his teeth, found himself charmed and amused by the relationship he saw forming between them; for he had noticed his elf friend's interests before. Merry meanwhile took an interest in the map of Pelennor Fields which was laid out in front of him.

"Reminds me of a board game," he said, his eyes parsing through the blocks drawn throughout.

"War is a numbers game," Vez responded with interest, turning towards him.

"A numbers game?" Merry asked. "Like with maths?"

She nodded, "Statistics. You can calculate with almost certainty which side will win."

"You mean, by which side has the most number of soldiers," he said, trying to follow.

"Not exactly," she replied, thinking through how to best explain it. "It is not just how many each side has, but the value of each of those soldiers. For example," she pointed her fingers to a diagram she drew on the map, "Horsemen are worth more than foot soldiers, archers worth more than swordsmen at the beginning of the battle, less at the end, the number of catapults and cave trolls also factor in...You also need to consider everything from the field's terrain to the weather that day. With enough information calculated, you can speculate precisely which side will win."

"That's impossible," Gimli remarked skeptically, having listened to her explanation, "Not to mention, battles are often won despite the odds."

"And those battles become legendary," Vez agreed, "But only because they are few and far between." She looked at the map in front of her again, speculating as if to herself, "And I have a feeling even they can be explained with numbers."

"How?" Gimli said undeterred, for all three of them remained skeptical of her methodology.

"An example from history then," she unfolded and turned over another parchment she had, leaving face up the blank side. She grabbed her brush and inkwell and went to work, "The battle of Ester Ridge. Three hundred of my best soldiers against a two-thousand strong horde of Dusterns..." She began drawing schematics of the battlefield which was easy enough to recall, while explaining the weaponry, the skill of her own soldiers compared to theirs, the slope of the terrain being in their favor, and the mid-day's sun causing her soldiers' armor to glint in their opponent's eyes. Providing a numerical value to each and calculating probability, the numbers came out in her side's favor. "...Most generals would avoid what on the surface appears as impossible odds. But the numbers don't lie and I took that risk. We ended up destroying them with minimal loss," she said gazing over what she drew, appearing overly absorbed in her musing and proud of her past accomplishment.

"I never heard war deduced this way," Legolas added steadily, considering her methods; it was slightly unsettling for him.

"It has become part of the advancement Easterling warfare. No longer the barbarian hordes of old, but the methodical and technological ascendance of technique over might," she explained. "It is a more sophisticated warfare."

"That reduces men to numbers," Legolas said sarcastically.

She noted his discomfort, and hoped it did not bid him further ill perceptions of her, agreeing, "Of course it does. An unfortunate necessity of an immense standing militia. The goal of a general is always to keep those numbers high."

"I can see now why you had no time for songs or verses," he said politely to her, referring to their past conversation.

A smile graced her face, as she noted he was true to his word of not having the acknowledgement of her past disrupt his current friendship with her; she was grateful for this and showed it in her eyes.

Breaking the moment, Gimli queried, "Do you think you can do that numbers trick with what lays before us?"

"There are too many uncertain variables," Vezely said considering, "I would need more information and time to run through everything."

He laughed, "See, it comes back to uncertainty. The dwarf way is the best way, just show up and fight."

Vez smirked at his suggestion, though thought it best to leave him skeptical rather than persuade him of her means.

Merry then added, still interested in the methods, "Does something like a good omen effect odds?"

"Definitely, morale is important for a soldier's strength and endurance," Vez replied, impressed by his thoughts. "This can be before or even during the battle. It is always open to chance or," she then stated amused, "It can be fabricated."

"An omen fabricated?" Merry replied equally amused at the thought, he then said rubbing his hands, "The possibilities are endless."

"Indeed," she smiled amused, "If only I had my game board from youth, I have a feeling you'd enjoy playing a match. I sense hobbits are clever folk."

"Depends on the hobbit," Merry said assuredly.

Aragorn soon called upon Legolas, and the elf would leave the three to what he deemed an odd conversation as Merry and Vez conversed on strange strategies and stranger practices amongst their cultures, with Gimli becoming a third voice speaking only proudly of dwarf customs. It was as if they were determined to pit race against each other in oddness.

* * *

"It is taking time," Aragorn said concerned, filling his pipe as they stood outside on the veranda.

"Gandalf should be nearly there, the beacons will be lit," Legolas said comfortingly, for he could sense his friend's worries.

He nodded grateful for his comforting words, he then asked, realizing he had not been attentive to his companions, "How fairs the wait for you?"

"It is fairing," he said steadily, though with a hint of uncertainty.

"You have mended your relationship with Vezely?" he asked carefully, knowing they had spent time together but not checking in on his companion's feelings since the night they returned to Edoras.

"Yes, we are again affable," he said politely.

"That is good, for I know she caused you some distress," he said filling air, uncertain he'd want to add anything else.

"It was not distress," he conceded after a second more of silence, "It was my own misinterpretation of my feelings for her."

Aragorn looked at his friend curiously, wondering what he meant. He then inquired, invoking the same line that Legolas had asked him when he decided he had fallen in love with Arwen, "You have settled then?"

Legolas smiled in acknowledgment of the phrase he recognized from their history, for it was during a time of relative peace and the beginnings of their own friendship. "I am settled," he said as if it was a revelation, but then added uncertain, "Yet such a relationship is not."

Aragorn breathed in the air while considering this, "I can see there is much to hold it back."

"Her own feelings for me are one amongst many," Legolas added solemnly, "She is not easily read, nor do I believe she will simply accept the feelings I offer. And even if she does and we survive this war, I cannot foresee a future without difficulties."

"Love is distress of its own making," Aragorn said commiserating, for while he experienced love with Arwen, the future of that relationship also hinged on the edge of a knife.

"That it is," Legolas agreed, "And this all remains unexpected."

"As for me to hear of it, for you had long forsaken love for a life of solitude," he said.

"And I remained certain of that path until recently. Our meeting again may have been foreshadowed long ago. Her memory never did leave me, regardless of the ill events that her appearance invoked," he stated calmly, before adding sarcastically, "My father suspected, as usual."

Aragorn smiled amused by this, "If this is true, perhaps fate is on your side."

Legolas internalized these thoughts, gaining some semblance of possibility from them, yet actually confronting Vezely with any desire to settle their feelings eluded his horizon. He knew not what steps to take.

The afternoon would turn into evening and the group would find themselves at a modest feast in the Golden Hall, accompanied by Eowyn. There they would take turns telling tales from their respective cultures, passing the night over good food, good conversation, and good ale.


	15. Past Lives

I am super interested to hear what you think of this chapter! And know I have an affinity for evil Vez and wish I could write her more. ;) Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 15 - Past Lives**

...The smirk on Vez's face grew as she heard Gimli finish his tale on the death of the dwarf enemy Azog, the Defiler, and a slight chuckle delightfully left her lips followed by her thoughts made vocal, "So that is how the bastard met his end."

All eyes turned to her, and she met them with an overly smug look on her face.

Gimli asked surprised, "You knew this pale orc?" For Vezely had remained quiet when the tale was being told, desiring not to project her past into the present; but to hear of Azog's demise and by such a young dwarf amused her.

Vez's pleased smirk did not leave as she replied, "I had the displeasure of holding council with him before he was sent West. Always liked to complicate things, create problems when there was none. It does me well to hear of his disposal by your kin."

"I often forget you've held some dark company," Gimli remarked gruffly.

Vezely shrugged, "And tales of which I fear if spoken, would harbor me ill will; for I am the villain in them."

"Then would you share with us the story of Vezena?" Eowyn spoke up amongst them, remembering before Vez had mentioned her namesake to her. "Of this woman warrior you are partly named after?" Eowyn desired to hear such a story, for the night had offered tales of only great men.

Vez smiled, pleased of Eowyn's remembrance and the chance to tell such a tale. She nodded politely, "If others desire to hear it, for it an Easterling tale and may require some additional cultural translations."

"I'd be interested in hearing it," Merry said, also curious.

"It would do us well to hear of someone none of us know," Aragorn said politely.

"Aye, give it to us lass," Gimli added moderating, for his tales had been center stage that night.

She nodded, and glanced at Legolas briefly before starting, who looked at her interested as well. "Alright. Vezena...legend says her chariot was pulled by dragons, but such is the domain of myth and there is an underlying reality of her greatness and why her legend is still told to Easterling children to this day. At the end of the Second Age, Easterlings were not a settled race. They were dispersed in small tribes throughout Rhun. You have probably never heard of the Kreshtan and for good reason, for today they do not exist but once they were intent on extending their power and marching their armies throughout the East, assaulting and assimilating tribes into their fold. A small alliance of warriors from the lower lands of Rhun stood up to the Kreshtan, but they were slaughtered for they were no match for their invested skill. Amongst the warriors killed was Vezena's father, the leader of her tribe. Now, the Kreshtan were gracious, they offered terms of peace to the defeated, but did so under superstitious threat for they had sent the dead warriors' bodies back to their people, but without their heads. Of which they had formed a wall of guarded pikes stretching throughout the lands they conquered."

"That is awful," Eowyn stated, being fully engaged in the story, as was Merry.

She nodded, and thinking she would need to explain further. "It is actually a graver offense than it appears. For many in the East believe that one's soul cannot pass into the afterworld without burning the entire body within three days of its passing. To use this as strategy proves the Kreshtan were ahead of their time," she then added nonchalantly, "For it is a rather effective means to conclude negotiations and alleviate the need to burn infrastructure."

"You speak from experience lass," Gimli said wryly, raising one eyebrow.

She smirked, realizing she did, "Sometimes means justify the ends and using people's superstitions against them may result in quicker surrender, perhaps even in less deaths," she adjusted her position slightly, noting the wide eyes of Merry as she did. "But I digress for I was not going to tell a tale about myself."

"Aye, continue on," Gimli conceded.

"So, as the elders discussed surrender, Vezena, crouched over the headless body of her father, saw a vision of what her people could become if they found the strength to stop the line of pikes from forming throughout her homeland. It was not an argument easily won for all feared for the souls of the fallen and for their own if they should also fall. But her resolve did not wane. It is said she burned with the determination of the sun and those before her were sparked by her rays to not fear for the dead when the living were under threat. She amassed a small army to confront the Kreshtan. They wore all their gold and dressed in their finest silk, as if it was to be their last day on earth. And there, on the lower land fields, they would defeat the Kreshtan against staggering odds and Vezena would unite the lower land tribes to form the great kingdom of Wainriders. To this day, Easterlings wear their gold into battle, and they make offerings to the sun's mother, for that is what her name means."

"Oh ho ho, that is a good tale," Gimli exclaimed, pleased.

"It has offered further understanding of Easterling culture," Aragorn nodded graciously, and then asked, "And you are named after this warrior?"

"Partly. The Balchoth are descended from the Wainriders, and their children are often given half-names in remembrance of warriors past. I was honorably given the title of sun, from Vezena," she replied, not sure if she wanted to divulge her full names meaning.

"And what does the rest of your name mean?" Eowyn asked politely.

She looked around at her friends before answering, feeling slightly apprehensive, "Vezely roughly translates in Westron to the setting sun, the sun in the West. It held meaning of my purpose, for the promise Sauron had provided the Balchoth, to lead them in taking over the lands West of Rhun."

"Meanings can be re-forged," Legolas added encouragingly, noting her prior apprehension.

She smiled at him appreciatively and he smiled back at her; their gaze seemed to fade out the present company. A moment all picked up on. Gimli glanced over at Aragorn and they exchanged a non-surprised look.

Merry added intrigued, "I kinda wanna hear more about that war strategy."

"You would," Vez chuckled knowingly at the hobbit, whom she had spent the afternoon discussing war strategies with.

"Before we digress into cutting men's heads off," Gimli added gruffly at the two misfits, "I'm getting some sleep. I've had enough ale and good stories for one night."

"Probably a good idea for all of us. Even you, Merry," Aragorn added kindly to the hobbit.

"Right, right," Merry accepted, still amused.

As they said their good nights and slowly left for their beds, Vez knew she would inevitably be left aside Legolas, who she had not been alone with since this afternoon when much was left unsaid. A knot in her stomach grew and she felt flustered on how to approach the subject, or to approach it at all.

Yet such a decision would not need to be made, as Legolas suggested to the group, "Perhaps I will also rest, for a night to do so may not come for some time."

"Vez?" Aragorn inquired if she also would join them.

"Probably a good idea," she replied politely, wondering whether Legolas had decided to do so in order to avoid an inevitably awkward conversation.

She had not slept in the same quarters as the group thus did not have a space allocated as her own and instead she went over to the corner where her rucksack and sword were placed, removing her scarf from her neck after she did, but not noticing that her presence made some of them uncomfortable when going to remove their outer layer of garments.

Gimli coughed, "Let us know if you need your space lass."

Vez turned to the dwarf unsure what he meant, then noticing they were all staring at her as if equally uncertain of how to proceed undressing around a woman, she realized with a slight chuckle, "Perhaps it is I who should give you space, for I know not the West's idea of modesty. Go ahead, master dwarf," she said turning her back on him, trying to hold in a laugh, "I will not look upon you in your undergarments and I will equally spare all the sight of my bare skin."

"Hmm," the dwarf flustered out. Despite his attempt at politeness, Gimli knew she was making fun of him.

Aragorn went over to her with a pile of blankets in his hand, his face appeared amused by her comments, "Sleep well," he said politely offering them to her.

"Thank you," she nodded amiably, again surprised by the kindness of kings, even would-be kings, in this land. She took the blankets and laid them out on the floor below. She did not remove her outer layers, for underneath her jacket was nothing but a fitted leather bodice with thin shoulder straps, leaving her decollage, upper back and arms completely bare. It undoubtedly showed more skin than such noble beings were use to, or at least, that is what she gauged of the West's modesty, if it were not for the cooler climate. She had lived and fought in less than they slept in. She also decided to leave her boots on, for she felt that sleep may not find her and she did not want to cause any more noise if she were to decide to go outside. She lay down on her side, facing the wall next to her, giving the group their privacy while closing her eyes and trying to clear her mind.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted to earlier that day, however; to Legolas holding her hand close to his chest and saying he desired to be comforted with her by the Forest River. It was more than a polite touch between friends, which she knew they had shared. Was it pity as she assumed? Such as the comfort given to a child who has fallen and hurt themselves, or was it something more intimate? And if it was, did she desire such a relationship with him? Love had never been a word on Vezely's register, but suddenly she comes West and it continues to find its way into her conversations. Eowyn surprised her by bringing it up this morning. She had also said something that disturbed her - that elves can die of a broken heart. Was such an absurdity, for it seemed so to someone raised as a Balchoth, true? For she had heard her whole life, admonishingly, that elves were emotionally fragile creatures. She now wondered whether the concern Romestamo and Morinehtar seemed to pay tending to her, and overhearing them speak of their surprise at her survival in the dungeons, was also due to this assumption. And if an elf can die of a broken heart, would she allow Legolas to love her and thus cause him to despair if she met her assumed fate. For her, such a relationship could not lead anywhere positive. But despite stopping here, she continued her thoughts on the logistical issues of such a relationship: "_He is noble, a king's son, and pure of body and mind. I served Sauron and am corrupted in mind and body. What kind of love would he expect? I would not be marriageable_." Or at least this is what she assumed in his society - that love equated marriage, even though she knew little about Elvish partnerships other than from information she gathered on them via snippets of Elvish history. "_Besides, maybe he is already married. Perhaps, he has an elf maiden at home; a fairer being who maintains the family line with some sense of propriety. ...For he is simply too perfect not to be attached to someone."_ She suddenly realized how odd it was for her to be milling over such notions of love and marriage, which for her always used to connote weakness; and furthermore to be focused so much on one person. She felt like slapping herself, and would have if not for being where she was.

Meanwhile, Legolas removed his outer tunic glancing over to her form briefly, noting that her prior mention of her bare skin caused him to think indecently. Lust was not a common emotion for elves, and their libidos often diminished over their life span. The norm of marriage early in life would fulfill their sexual desires for the later years. Yet his decision to forego marriage meant he was left with an empty bed, and empty experience. For an elf, however, this held less concern than for a man. But to suddenly have such thoughts surface, made him slightly unsure of how to react to them, for these thoughts went beyond simple appreciation of her understated beauty. Vez was not conventionally beautiful to Elvish eyes; for elves held a special attraction to long hair, and her shorn locks and missing ear tip would be completely off-putting, if not for the shape of her face, the depth of her eyes which were blue but with muted greens and golds, and the freckles that spanned the bridge of her nose. Her black liner and small gold rings in her ears gave her an exoticness which he knew added to his appeal; for he had seen many beautiful elf maidens in his years, but none whose appearance was worthy of further consideration. But as her bare skin passed through his mind again, he thought, perhaps such impolite thoughts should not be had when he knew not how she felt. He would close his eyes and attempt to clear his mind, knowing rest was necessary for the battle to come.

Minutes passed and Gimli's light snoring filled the quarter's darkened silence. Vez finally managed to settle her mind enough to drift off, but dreams would take her to her past, recalling moments of identity crisis.

* * *

_[Moments of Vezely's past, relived in her dreams.]_

"You are Vezena reborn," the dark haired woman proclaimed proudly, presenting her a sword engraved with words she also spoke, "'_Fear not the destruction of your soul, instead fear defeat in life.' _These are Vezena's words and words the Balchoth live by. Carry them on your weapon and fulfill them in life, and you shall not be ashamed."

The youth took the long curved blade, her eyes running with the glint of the sun that ran over its length. "I will make my ancestors proud and my people prouder," she said confidently, finding comfort in her mother's eyes before the dream shifted to an outdoor arena, and she noted she was still gripping the hilt of the same sword, now attached at her side. Her eyes narrowed onto a man who was her father's younger brother as he menacingly paced back and forth in front of her, addressing the crowd of her tribesmen who had gathered for the challenge.

"She is not a Balchoth," the large, bare chest man spoke assuredly, his voice ascending high and loud, "Pointed ears, eternal youth, her blood is not our blood. Sauron deceives us with this gift. He deceives us into believing we cannot complete our destiny on our own. That we would need the help of this outsider." There were enough of his supporters in the crowd to make the atmosphere tense, for all feared a rebellion would take place if Vezely lost.

"Are you finished?" Vezely asked confidently, her voice also ascending over the crowd, as she was undeterred by her uncle's mutiny. "I do not want to spend my afternoon listening to your insolence. Are you going to challenge me for the title, or not?"

He smirked, for he had been preparing for this moment since his brother's death, causing the tribe to split over their loyalties. "Yes, I challenge you."

Vezely placed her fist to her chest and bowed her head slightly, saying with feigned respect, "And I accept. Choose the weapons."

He moved closer, "The scythe," he called out to the crowd, before directing his words to her only, "I know you well. You will not defeat me with this weapon."

She breathed in his foul breath, replying steadily with her eyes forward, "We will see."

She removed her belt and sword, along with her jacket. Her leather top underneath allowing for a proud display of her upper back and arms which were marked sparsely in the black ink of Rhunic script; the arrows lining her upper arm to represent the defeat of past challengers were slowly adding up. She had hoped to be past such matches and to have moved forward into preparing her people to settle West into Calenardhon, but the transition period between her father's death and this moment remained incredibly unstable. She hoped, by putting her uncle in the grave, his rebellion would lose any chance of takeover and she could fulfill Sauron's demands.

But before blows could be made, the dream shifted to the end of the fight, she tasted her own blood in her mouth as she found her hands covered in her uncle's. She stood from her position crouched over his severed body, finding the crowd silent and awaiting her motion.

"I am a Blachoth," she raised her voice with pride, "Question this again and I will send you to your forefathers." She raised her blood soaked weapon and the crowds' voice ascended with it.

The dream then placed her centuries forward on Ester Ridge; to after the battle she had predicted her victory prior by calculating statistics. It was the same battle she outlined earlier that day to her current traveling companions as proof of her effective war methodology. Dressed in full Easterling battle gear, her black lined eyes scanned the once green fields, now littered with bodies soaked in dirt and blood. The smoke of previously set fires due to her bold use of blasting powder, continued to smolder, muting all into a gray haze.

"General," a young officer approached her, and nodded respectfully before being bid to continue, "We have captured thirty Estens who escaped the fields. They are pleading for terms of surrender."

Instead of responding, she breathed in the cool air; the sensation matched her cool demeanor as she replied, "Terms of surrender?" she suddenly appeared slightly amused, "There is enough wood for crosses. That ridge," she tilted her head up as her eyes looked towards the top of the field's crest, "I expect it lined with their crucified bodies by nightfall."

The young officer nodded respectfully again before leaving with her grim task.

Behind her stood Vez's second in command at that time, stationed in front of a table strewn with maps of the region they were marching through. She turned to him, validating her decision by saying confidently, "We need to send a message to other clans in this region."

"Agreed," the man conceded, for they were being met with a high amount of hostility there in their efforts to gain allegiances for Sauron, "And we should move eastward," he added calmly, his eyes scanning the maps in front of him. "There is a small colony of Dorwinion elves there, who we should not find issue destroying."

Vez raised one eyebrow up, "Our mission is not east, but north. I will not deviate from our path to destroy settlements on a whim."

The man looked at her skeptically, "Sauron would find no qualm in our destruction of elvish territories," and then added, "And one of such small scale would not endanger troop numbers."

"We are already stretched thin, and I intend to keep north," she replied bitterly at his attempt at persuasion.

"You were less concerned before this battle, despite the odds," he noted dryly, believing that her refusal to take on elves had other motives.

"This was our course, beside the calculations didn't lie," she knew fighting this battle considering the numerical imbalance was risky. "No, we keep north, out of Dorwinion elf territory."

"Your allegiance to your own kind finally shows," he stated displeased while slightly shaking his head and forgetting his rank for a second later his feet were kicked out from under him and her boot smashed into his throat.

"You forget your place. Question my allegiance or my decisions again and you will also find yourself on that ridge, as an example," she said angrily amidst his distressed attempt not to be crushed.

Before removing her boot, the dream shifted and she found herself amongst a fire gutted village on a mountain top in the Nurunkhizdin; one which her armies torched the night before. She loathed the need to burn infrastructure, but the town's insurgence left her little choice. By her side was her second in command and later betrayer, Öldür, as confident as she as they surveyed the damaged. Commotion from her soldiers shifted their attention to a half-burned barn, where they dragged three small children alive from the wreckage. Terrified, the youth huddled together; tears soaked their faces, for they had seen much the previous night.

"Kill them," Öldür spoke, finding their survival a bad omen. Immediately the soldier nearest to them unsheathed his sword.

"Wait," Vezely demanded, walking over to the group of pathetic beings. She used her index finger to lift the one child's wet chin, causing her tear filled eyes to look upon the woman general. As Vezely observed the little one not yet four years of age, she appeared stone cold and completely unmoved by the child's plight. Saying equally stolid, "That is not necessary. They will die at their own accord."

Öldür's eyes narrowed at his commander, but conceded to her wishes.

As they walked away, leaving the children to fend for themselves amongst the ruins, he said, "You are getting soft. Your blood has weakness."

She laughed slightly, "Your superstitions are your weakness," for she knew too well that it lay behind his desire to have the children killed and part of her stopped the incident simply to spite him.

The dream again moved to a few months after her captivity in Dol Guldur. With a blanket over her shoulders and a half-filled tea cup in front of her, Vez sat in a room alone in Romestamo's small abode on the outskirts of Rhun's vastest desert. She overheard Romestamo's conversation with his companion wizard in the room next door; realizing she was the topic she listened in with her keen hearing.

"...But she has not despaired, I have never heard of such foul deeds done to an elf who didn't die or need to sail to the Utter West immediately after," Romestamo confided intrigued.

"Her resilience to this is astonishing no doubt, but considering her upbringing," Morinehtar reasoned calmly.

"Environment over blood, interesting, interesting," the wizard exclaimed, rubbing the palms of his hands together fascinated by its implications.

"Yet we cannot allow her to continue denying her bloodline, for there is no hope for her redemption otherwise," Morinehtar reasoned, knowing his companion was often overly giddy by the unexpected.

"The topic is not easily received," Romestano replied concerned, for he was often shot down by her for his interest in her Elvish background. "We will need to ease her into it slowly..."

The dream again shifted to the time after the fall of the resistance, to the black void of the desert at night. Romestamo said to her in a hushed and hurried voice, for their position had been compromised, "Ride West, to outskirts of Fangorn Forest. Seek out Gandalf, member of our order, give him all the information our cause holds."

"Why do you send me with this task?" Vez asked skeptically while quickly saddling her horse and attaching her rucksack. She did not expect to be given such an important mission, since she was often relegated to mostly menial tasks for the resistance.

"It is the path you must take, one I have been preparing you for," he said assuredly, "An opportunity to confront your past, to restart your future."

Her eyes narrowed, for his riddle unsettled her, "Fangorn Forest is located in the kingdom of Rohan."

"And there you will ask for forgiveness from their king," he said quickly, undeterred by her skepticism.

She closed her eyes trying to settle her desire to rebuke him. While displeased by what was attached to this mission, she resolved to its sense of urgency, "I told you, I do not seek forgiveness, but," after mounting her horse, she said sincerely, "I will complete this task, for the debt I owe you is great." She admittedly had grown fond of the old wizard and despite the trouble she gave him, she respected and appreciated his and Morinehtar's guidance.

"Speed to you, young elf," Romestamo said caringly as his farewell, using his pet name for her, which he knew irritated her, "May you find some sense of peace while there."

Instead of chastising him for the title, as she often did, she respectively pressed her fist to her chest and bowed, leaving the wizard and Rhun behind, uncertain of what lay ahead.

The dream then shifted weeks forward to barren wastelands which were once the more fertile fields of the Balchoth; the climate of the area had turned arid and inhospitable. Vez's mouth felt noticeably parched for she was low on water and far from natural sources. She had taken this route through Rhovanion for safety reason, for it was unlikely to be used as a militia traveling ground, and from there she would cross the borders into the West and into the kingdom of Rohan. Cut into a cliff face was a sanctuary dedicated to remembrance of the clan's leaders; it was filled with nondescript rectangular, polished black stone totems erected side-by-side. A portion of the leader's ashes were buried in front of them in soap stone boxes, while the rest would have been scattered to the winds. She had not returned there for three hundred years, since the time she returned the Balchoth leader ring. It was when her allegiance had fully shifted to Sauron and she felt odd to hold onto it; for her people had vanished into history and memories of her failure in the West unsettled her. The sanctuary was in squalid condition, with part of the entrance collapsed and several of the totems knocked over and broken; for earthquakes had taken their toll on the area. Her father's totem, stationed next to her mother's, whose ashes were mixed with his, remained in situ. She knelt in front of it, her knees adjusting to the rough gravel on the broken tile floor. She poured some of her remaining water over the stone to cleanse it, revealing the polished black stone underneath. It was custom for one to do so when they came to pay their respects, thus despite her scarcity of water, she felt it necessary. She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"I do not believe the dead can hear the living or any of that superstitious nonsense," she said aloud, trying not to feel foolish for a desire to make her thoughts vocal, "But here I am feeling a need to speak to both of you. I go West, a direction I have not gone since I led our people to their fate. And there, I am to fight alongside our enemy. Ironic, I know, but I believe it is against the right foe. Sauron deceived both of us. Know I do not begrudge you your part in this deception... I hold no connection to those whose arms I was taken from before being placed into yours, despite my rescuers desires to embrace my blood. They do not realize it is not my blood that kept me from despair those years in captivity..."

She opened the soap stone box to view the ashes of her mother and father. Moving her fingers through the grey sand she found the gold ring she placed there centuries past. After brushing the dust from it gently, she pushed it onto her index finger.

Gaining strength from remembrance, "It was your upbringing that made me strong. As Vezena, I would not accept defeat, not to one who has wronged us..." She would leave with the ring as a reminder of the only home she had truly known; a reminder that she once had purpose and the honor to fulfill it. A few weeks later she would find herself on the edge of Fangorn Forest, and the beginning of her journey with her current traveling companions.

* * *

Vez awoke, her eyes opening to the darkness of the communal quarters, and her ears to the light sound of Gimli snoring alongside the winds of Edoras shuffling the grasslands outside. She did not desire to return to sleep, and instead grabbed her sword from its position resting against the corner wall before quietly exiting the side door; attempting her best to walk lightly as to not disturb anyone.

Her eyes looked toward the heavens, finding the stars brighter than usual, before she walked to the terrace corner and took a seat on the ground. Sitting cross legged, she held up her sword in the palms of her hands. Unsheathing it halfway in front of her face, her eyes surveyed the chiseled engravings across its length. "_Fear not the destruction of your soul, instead fear defeat in life_." This was not the sword given to her in her youth by her Balchoth parents, for that sword was lost to history. It was one passed on to her by the Blue Wizards, when they deemed her mentally stable and amicable enough to carry it. It was one of many weapons the resistance confiscated when they ambushed an army supply caravan, thus it was not of the highest quality and sparse in decor. She had added the engraving herself, trying to reconnect with her past, when life had a greater purpose and to remember the people who were instrumental in her upbringing. After thinking through its words, she brought the sword's blade to her forehead, lightly touching its coolness to her skin. It caused her to sigh out in Westron, for she had been speaking this tongue consistently lately, "Who am I?" Bringing it away from her head, she gazed uncertain at the reflection of her eyes in its moonlit steel, before it reflected movement behind her. She tilted it and saw his form. Sheathing it in a quick motion, she gathered her composure and spoke with her eyes remaining forward, "Apologies if I woke you. I need to learn to be quieter."

"You were, for no others were stirred and I was already awake," he replied softly.

"You could not sleep?" she asked looking up at him when he reached her side.

"Unfortunately not, for my mind wishes otherwise," he said, for he had fallen to sleep briefly only to be visited by visions of Mirkwood burning and his people dying in battle. He wondered if this war was taking its toll on him; that the constant peril and death were causing him to lose resolve. He knew he should not have followed her outside, for undoubtedly she desired solitude, but yet his heart desired to be near her. As if he could find solace simply by being in her presence.

"Mine as well," she replied commiserating.

"May I sit beside you?" he then asked politely, despite it being an uncomfortable position for one who preferred to stand - honed by years spent on patrol with the Woodland guard.

"Please," she scooted slightly over from the corner, smiling slightly, for his courteousness continued to amuse her. While before she wanted to avoid an awkward conversation with him, she also could not deny that she felt calmed by his presence and was glad he was there.

They each looked at the stars above, quietly breathing the cool air, uncertain how to frame their conversation for the prior episode that afternoon, her hand in his, their confusion in desires, was still fresh in their minds.

"I should not have shared with you that map," Vezely spoke amidst the silence, believing she gained a sense of his prior distress, "For the information now weighs heavily on your mind."

Legolas somehow was not surprised she knew what caused him unrest, for elves were often perceptive of others they were close to, "Do not feel guilt for doing so, for I desired to know what awaits my kin. And regardless, other thoughts would equally keep me from rest."

She nodded at his polite forgiveness, "This war is wearing on you," she said softly. "I have heard elves can only take so much death and despair before they wear thin."

He looked at her, wondering where she was provided this information, "To some extent this is true. The Shadow that now spreads has caused many to feel the weight of uncertainty and to desire the light of Aman. Though I am not unaccustomed to war and its effects. What have you heard about the emotional character of elves?" he asked curious.

"That there is weakness in elvish blood," she said solidly.

"Weakness?" he repeated, surprised at her word choice.

"Perhaps that is a biased word," she realized she spoke condescendingly, "One honed by centuries of desired disassociations. For one, I am told I should not have survived the dungeons of Dol Guldur, or to have survived, but with less resolve."

"It is admittedly surprising," he said taking into account the odds, "But such does not spell weakness in the blood of elves, but speaks more to the strength of your own character," he said turning her idea on itself, "What else have you heard?"

Vez considered her phrasing, "That there is a great dichotomy of the strength of our flesh and the softness of our emotions. That an elf cannot die from age or disease, but in battle or of a broken heart, elves can perish. The latter of which I can only assume is incorrect, for such a possibility is inconceivable." She said this with some sarcastic amusement.

"You underestimate the power of love," he said earnestly, internalizing the truism of her words and querying her disbelief.

She looked at him skeptically, "This cannot be true."

Her eyes displayed shock and disbelief, with a hint of disdain before betraying worry, which he wondered of, "Love is not something taken lightly by those who walk this land for centuries," he explained, "Companionship is typically found early in life. Elves marry young, and the joy of that bond sustains them for eternity. For even when couples are asunder, they are linked by heart and mind. The loss of one destroys the other."

She thought through this explanation but "I see," was all she could manage in a reply, for she could not conceive of such a strong connection. The implications of it bothered her. Then, as if needing confirmation, she asked, "Are you not married? For I would suspect someone such as yourself would easily be spoken for."

He was slightly embarrassed that she even thought this, especially since his slight advances on her would be deemed adulterous if he were. A small uncomfortable smile marked his face.

"Apologies," she added concerned before he could reply, biting her lip, for she realized she caused him uneasiness, "It was too personal a question to ask."

He smiled slightly while looking down, "No, it is a question well-expected for I am not the norm. My father did encourage me to seek companionship early in life, but you cannot force love when the right one is not to be found."

An awkward silence followed his words, and Vezely still felt regretful to have caused it. In order to calm her guilt, Legolas added, "You may ask me personal questions, if there is something you truly desire to know, I would gladly answer it."

She looked at him, unsure of the reasoning behind this offer, but desired to offer him the same, "I will provide you the same courtesy. Though," she smirked, "I think you are too polite to ask what you truly desire to know."

He knew this was true, "Perhaps, or perhaps not. For I gather you have a negative take on love."

"This is not a question, but an assumption," she replied curious of what he was getting at.

"Then," he decided to rephrase, "How do you view love?"

She smiled pleasantly amused at his attempt to be bold, "I will be honest. I have always viewed love as a weakness; as a dishonest sport between the sexes, one that can be used and abused at whim. And for those who stand outside a couple's love, it can be wielded as a weapon against them."

"And you have done so?" he asked concerned.

She breathed in the cool air before replying, "Yes."

"You do not need to tell me more," he added politely before she could continue.

"Though you should know of my corruption, for if elves truly hold love sacred, I am even more of an abomination in this regard," she said concerned; looking at him she could see he was considering why she would say so.

"That is your past," he replied gaining resolve in her worried gaze, for his feelings for her were not easily swayed, "My question is of your present disposition."

She looked away from him, not desiring him to read into her thoughts, saying steadily, "Love remains a foreign land I know little about. One I am unsure if I could visit."

"And if invitation is given," he asked carefully.

She sensed a solid assertion behind his words; as if he was gauging whether she would accept his love. She stated sincerely, continuing to speak with metaphoric double meaning, "Much consideration should be given by the inviter, for the consequences of such a trip are uncertain."

Not knowing the true meaning strung to her words, he replied, "Again, I believe you fear what you have not yet experienced."

"I do not fear for myself," she added forthrightly, "But for the one who would love me. I would not have another's fate tied to my own."

Suddenly he realized he was wrong, her worry was for him - the question about dying from a broken heart queried before, they all led to her concern of him loving her. "Vezely," he said her name softly, "Your fate is not decided. You should not live as if you are doomed."

She closed her eyes, saying just as soft, "And you should have the love of someone who is pure and has no possibility of causing you pain." As soon as the last words left her mouth, she had a desire to leave his side for such emotions overwhelmed her. She stood and turned away from him, her hand clutching her sword scabbard's beside her. But before steps could be made, Legolas had also stood and took her hand at her side, causing her to turn to him. He lifted it to his chest, and held her palm against him as he did that afternoon. She could feel his heart beating beneath it.

"You cannot dictate love," he said to her sincerely, causing her strained eyes to finally look at him. "If you do not feel as I do, then tell me and I will try to diminish my feelings for you." He did not know if this was a possibility, but he could not force her heart either.

Seconds passed before she could answer, her hand pulsing in his, her breathing irregular. She thought she could lie to him, and send him through some painful days, but spare him in the end; but would he not suspect her words were false? Could she even admit that she loved him, crossing into this foreign territory that she never thought bid her welcome? The moments passed and worry began to consume Legolas, for he could not gauge the conversation she was having inside.

She closed her eyes, slightly disappointed in herself for not being strong enough to lie, "I cannot lie to you, Legolas. For the feelings I hold would not diminish if I did." After these words left her mouth, she opened her eyes to his, finding they were beginning to fill with joy, igniting a similar feeling inside her, but one she tried to reason out of. "But it does mean we should pursue such feelings, war is not suited for it," she asserted, holding her sword up to her chest as if to create a barrier between them.

"You're wrong, it is a time like this when love is needed," he knew she carried her doubts and fear of the future, but he would not let her repress this, "Love is not a weakness, Vezely. It is a strength. It will see us through this, together."

After absorbing his words, she slowly brought her sword back down to her side, her head and eyelids lowering with it, uncertain of their truth and knowing now that reasoning out of what grew between them was impossible. "I am not strong enough to love," she murmured, appearing unconvinced. But instead of letting her despair in the moment, he gently brought her body close to his, cradling her with her hand still on his chest, his head was besides hers in an embrace. She continued to hold her sword at her side, but it slowly slid from her grasp, hitting the stone floor tip first before falling onto its side. She brought her now free hand to his upper back and brought him closer to her, burying the side of her face into his shoulder as they both closed their eyes and allowed the moment to take them away from the present world.


	16. New Beginnings, or Not

Progressing the story forward just slightly! Hope you don't mind. And thank you all for the reviews. :)

* * *

**Chapter 16 - New Beginnings, or Not**

Seconds passed into minutes as the two unlikely souls remained in an embrace that solidified their feelings. Their breathing and heart beats fell into unison, and their body temperatures became the same. Vezely slowly moved her face away from his shoulder, her eyes still closed, as Legolas looked down upon her - she was tall, as he was, but he stood a few inches above her. Her eyes would slowly open and meet his gaze, and they exchanged the now accepted affection held between them; remembering that before such gazes sparked confusion of interests. That this may have grown from a seed embedded in them upon their first meeting in Mirkwood centuries ago was in the back of both of their minds. He brought his hand softly to her cheek, and smiled softly as he caressed it, finding himself considering what this revelation of reconciling that he loved her meant, despite their gulf of differences and her dark history, to his present and future; as both remained uncertain.

Vez had a small, curious smile on her face, for such a gentle touch she knew not. She had let her inhibitions go, allowing him to hold her as if she required it for she despaired in the moment of accepting her love for him - she despaired thinking of a future not set in stone, and one which she never concerned herself with moving forward into before. She moved her hand on top of his, and held it softly to keep it steady aside her face, "How did we end up here?" she said with bemused concern, considering as he had the past centuries that they stood as far away enemies.

"An answer I do not need to know," Legolas replied quietly, feeling elated and enjoying the touch of her soft skin and the closeness of her face to his.

Vez felt slightly overwhelmed by the rush of emotions hitting her, as if she were beside herself, looking upon the situation as one would observe a dream. She could not help but feel undeserving of such a gaze, to be held as such by one as perfect as he, and to be looked upon as if she were just as perfect. He noted the concern in her eyes, the emotions welling inside her, and he instinctively kissed her forehead, causing her to close her eyes and have the feelings of unworthiness soothed. "Do not question it either," he whispered, but did so in Elvish, and she felt the breath from his voice lightly touch her face. The sound of the lyrical words further calmed her and she nodded slightly in resolve to this request, opening her eyes to his and finding their faces closer than before.

"I will not," she replied in his native tongue, and suddenly turned her gaze to the night sky, sensing the stars were appearing brighter than before. He adjusted his arms around her and also gazed at the stars, as they leaned their heads against each other. They knew there was nothing more that needed to be said that evening, nothing that needed to be decided. The sun would rise and they would face a new day and a new way of living, or perhaps not.

As the town awoke below them, they knew they couldn't idle there or neglect their companions. Another time and place and they would have taken off on their own, away from any pressing matters to enjoy their new found courtship. Despite an evening of solace, the war for Middle Earth would not cease for two young hearts or lessen the resolve of either whose tasks were yet to be done.

As the sun rose and they felt its additional warmth hit them, they looked at each other and silently voiced how unexpected it was the position they found themselves in. "So much for a night of rest," Vez said slyly.

"There will be other nights," Legolas replied, for he surely had intended to rest if not for his troubled thoughts about his homeland. "Though I suspect you do not rest often," he added, considering her deep slumber the night she fell asleep beside him on their return to Edoras from Isengard. Rarely do elves fall into such a deep sleep that they are not stirred by even the most muffled of noises.

"I do not," Vez said considering as they now faced each other, holding each other's hands by their sides, "My mind often does not allow it," she added nonchalantly, though she thought how sleep too often reminded her of the time she spent in Dol Guldur's dungeons when she lost hold of her mind and fell into the void of non-remembrance. She squeezed his hands before releasing them, noting the warmth her body held and the coolness of the morning winds suddenly playing against its once sealed surface.

She went to pick up the sword she dropped the night before, kneeling on one knee and grabbing it by the scabbard's midpoint, suddenly being struck by the engravings hidden inside. "_Fear not the destruction of your soul, instead fear defeat in life_." It stalled her from standing. For she knew if she perished in this fight, there was a high possibility of not being permitted to pass into Aman for her sins were too great. She never cared whether her past deeds destroyed her soul, for the Blue Wizards' warnings she'd be left wandering the Halls of Mandos seemed unduly like her present reality. As long as she met death as a warrior to a worthy opponent, she cared not what lied beyond. Besides, hadn't she deserved such a fate? But by accepting love, an elf accepts the responsibility of the soul of another. If her heart was now reconciled to be his, an eternity without him, and the sorrow such a separation could inflict weighed heavily on her mind. Did love now provide her strength to desire a different fate? To change her mind about seeking the redemption she cared not?

Looking upon her back, Legolas noted her contemplation, saying steadily, "You are you."

She pivoted towards him as she stood up, grasping her sword in her hand, "What?" she asked unsure what he was referring to.

"I heard you last night, questioning who you were while looking upon the markings on your sword," he explained, thinking back and connecting her current thoughts to it, "You are you. I stand by what I said at Helm's Deep. You do not need to reconcile your character with what you perceive to be the character of elves. You were not raised amongst us, but you are one of us."

She realized she spoke in Westron and his keen hearing must have picked it up. She now reconsidered his words, finding herself even more grateful for them than she was before, "And your acceptance of my character means everything to me." But she hoped not to dwell on the engraving's meaning and her true worries, so she added amused, "We are very different, you and I, but perhaps this is why we're compatible." Then raising one eyebrow, "And my differences appeal to you."

He smirked at her stance, and not necessarily denying it he said, "You are unique, uncouth at times."

"Uncouth?" she replied surprised and slightly offended, moving back to his side, "I suppose to someone as polite and well-bred as yourself."

"I am not always polite," he said assuredly, though he knew he had often been around her.

"I hope not," she said slyly, obviously flirting with him, making him unintentionally blush. After a moment she added while looking out on the plains, her free hand on her hip in defiance, "Uncouth...Unconventional perhaps. I have held council with pale orcs and barbarous men who'd rather club me than converse with me. I was the least uncouth among them." She looked at him through the corner of her eye, turning from sarcasm to blatant curiosity as she awaited his response.

He was amused by her playful nature, for she knew she could now give him a hard time without much reticence. Keeping his stance and smirking slightly, he replied confidently, "I will not be polite enough to rescind my judgment. You remain uncouth in my eyes."

She laughed, feeling glee at being met with equal retort, to play with him freely in such a manner. She slid her hand under his forearm, as if he were to escort her off somewhere, unintentionally feeling his hard arm muscles underneath as she did. He smiled over at her, liking the feeling such a touch and their current position standing beside each other evoked, for they stood there as a couple. For one who always admired his friend's pairings, to now be paired felt unbelievable. Vez was not the elf maiden he'd always imagined would be at his side - not only was she foreign in appearance but in nature; yet, he liked their asymmetry. Similarly, Vez never envisioned herself holding the arm of a handsome and honorable elf; for the men she had stood next to in her life, for she had a number of men as her second in command, were dishonorable and far from beautiful. She adjusted her hand slightly, noting his arm muscles again, which caused a slight rush of heat to go to her cheeks.

They each gazed out on the horizon, thinking of the other, while both being grateful they had settled on this issue. Inevitably the day ahead crept into their minds and Vez spoke her thoughts, "Gandalf should be at Minas Tirith by now."

"Yes, he should," Legolas confirmed, thinking the same thing, "Today our eyes will be fixed on the beckons, especially Aragorn's."

"He carries a heavy burden, as the last of his line," she said considering.

"And it is slowly eating away at him," Legolas said solemnly for his friend, "He does not want the power that lies before him."

Vezely did not know fully Aragorn's take on the task set before him, but to hear that such a man truly did not desire such authority, did not surprise her. "This whole war has been about power, that he does not desire such position..."

"It brings hope to the world of men," Legolas said finishing her sentence.

She silently agreed via a brief nod, for it was her thoughts made vocal. Thinking of hope, however, made her breath get caught slightly as she wondered if her own worries were unfounded. After allowing these ideas to settle, she asked uncertain of life now that such a bond had been acknowledged between them, "How do we move on from here?"

Knowing she referred to their changed relationship, he turned toward her, and taking her hands in his, he said steadily, "We each have our duties. Mine remains tied to the fellowship. For I swore an oath in Rivendell, and remain bound by honor and friendship to fulfill its purpose. You also have yours. And while I do not know where these tasks will lead us, I do know that my heart is yours and will remain so whatever path we take."

"But you place it in precarious hands," she replied concerned, making her worries only partially known, "My tasks may take me away from these lands, and whether I can return..."

He quieted her by softly pressing his fingers against her lips. He knew some truth lay behind her disbelief; that even after the impending battles and if Sauron was defeated, she may not be able to simply move forward when her past tied her down. But he realized that here their difference in age showed, for time and distance often did not enter into an elf's concern.

"I worry needlessly," Vez said in realization a moment after he moved his fingers away, brushing them against the side of her cheek, forming words to his thoughts; then adding softly, "The world waited for us to meet again."

He continued where she left off, "And it can wait again for us to be together. Time or distance will not change my feelings for you."

As she absorbed his oath, Vezely knew not the words to give voice to a shared sentimentality, for she also knew her heart was his and there was no turning such feelings around, regardless of where she found herself. She noted his light touch against her cheek had made her breathing grow heavy and an unseen force beckoned her lips to his. Though taken back by her sudden boldness, Legolas obliged her impulse, taking her in a full embrace as their desires softly played out. Breathless they parted, their noses yet lingering and foreheads touching, finding the sensation a revelation of how they could have lived without such experience.

Knowing she may have surprised him by taking this next physical step, one not taken lightly by young hearts in love, Vez grinned saying, "I am uncouth," causing a mirthful response. In a way, it sealed their bond, for their circumstances made an extended courtship impossible. They would later part each other's side, but with confidence that their newfound love could help guide them through the hard days ahead.

* * *

...After tending Gizik in the stables Vez slowly made her way back to the Golden Hall, hearing the sounds of children playing nearby. They were kicking around a twine ball, playing keep away from the youngest and smallest of the bunch - a small girl not five years of age who appeared to be exhausted from the task given to her by her slightly older peers. Vez ignored the group's rowdiness, hoping to bypass them on her path, for the sound of children irritated her. Yet the young one, in an attempt to catch the thrown ball, slipped and fell right in front of Vez's trajectory, causing tears to instantaneously fall down her cheeks, courtesy of a scrapped knee and hurt pride. While initially considering stepping around the tiny victim and being on her way, Vez stopped and squatted in front of her, offering a hand to assist her up. Albeit a friendly gesture, recognition by the child that it came from an unlikely source, caused her to sniff in a gulp of breath, followed by silence and widened eyes. Noting this unfavorable reaction, Vez switched to a friendlier demeanor, smiling slightly while softly saying, "A scrapped knee is not enough to accept defeat." The child noted her pleasant voice and decided to accept her hand, and Vez gently lifted her to her feet. The child starred at her in wonder momentarily, but a brief smile and nod were given before running off to join her friends. For Vez, looking into her teary eyes produced a knot in her stomach, for it caused remembrance of the children whose deaths she was responsible and for the ones whose imminent deaths she averted in the village in the Nurunkhizdin Mountains; when teary eyes also looked upon her. She felt slightly sick as she heard the sounds of their play commence as a vision of Edoras burning and the same children lying dead in the street consumed her. She knew they may not survive the spread of Sauron's power; they too would be his victims, easily discarded by the armies who desired their lands.

In the past, Vez primarily operated as a general should, providing rational reasons for any deaths she ordered or took. She often turned surrenders into examples, dealt with resistance psychologically through fear, using death for its shock value; all means which she saw as having justifiable ends. But she knew she did not always maintain that stance, for there was no strategic value in having killed for sport, or professing to enjoy a good kill when it presented itself. Sauron once prided himself on her cruelty, and even more so, on her ability to use it to produce results.

Her sins were undeniable and now more than ever they were staring her in the face. She wondered whether this was what Romestamo truly meant when he said going West would be "an opportunity to confront your past, to restart your future." She queried whether such feelings of remorse suddenly hitting her were part of her moving forward. As her steps took her closer to the great hall's open doors, she tried to brush off any hint of this concern before entering, for it did not suit the character she always upheld - distanced and not distracted by the plight of others. This had become even more of a lie since coming West.

Inside she found King Theodon conversing with his advisers, sensing as the rest of them that they may be called to ride for war soon. Vezely nodded in greeting to Eowyn, who stood by her brother, whose eyes simply acknowledged Vez's presence, and Vez returned a similar glance to show she could also casually ignore him. She moved over to where Gimli and Merry were seated, quietly enjoying a simple meal of stew, while Legolas stood aside them in his usual manner - arms crossed with perfect posture as if he were one of the hall's pillars. Her gaze found his eyes quickly and they exchanged the warmth of the feelings acknowledged between them that morning, and Vez felt slight heat in her cheeks as she did for such moments of tenderness were also recalled. She reached his side, and stood close to him, and knowing similar thoughts were passing through his mind made her grin, though to others her smile appeared to have no reason behind it.

"What are you cheery about lass?" Gimli asked suspiciously, one eyebrow raised.

She realized her mirthful demeanor and calmed her amusement, returning to one more collected, "We may ride to war today," she replied.

"Hmm, that would make you happy," and he then added in agreeable tone, "As it does me."

Vez liked the dwarf's equal love of battle and his good humor towards it. She wondered if all his kin were similar for perhaps she would not have any issue getting along with dwarves.

Before the conversation commenced, however, through the hall's doors ran Aragorn as if lit on fire, "The beacons of Minas Tirith! The Beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid."

Silence filled the hall as all eyes were fixed on the man, before turning to King Theodon, as he considered his response. Perhaps having already resolved to it earlier, he said proudly, "And Rohan will answer."

It was enough to set his men into action, as Theodon sent riders to all corners of his kingdom to call upon able-bodied men to assemble at Dunharrow. For Vez and her companions, they would need to pack up their belongings and ready their horses for the long journey ahead.

...In the stables, Eowyn and Vez exchanged words, "I am glad you can ride with us to the encampment," Vez confided, walking Gizik aside her, then remarking covertly, "It provides opportunity."

Eowyn nodded agreeably, replying quietly, "Though one that must be carefully considered."

Vez understood the need to do so, replying encouragingly, "There is yet time. I will support you in any decision you make." Walking into the sunlight, they politely smiled knowing the conversation should not take on more ears, especially since Aragorn was right ahead of them. Vez continued her walk while Eowyn stopped by his side.

Before mounting her horse, Vez felt a light tug on her jacket; turning around she saw the same small child from that morning starring up at her and holding in her tiny hand a white flower. Vez looked skeptically at the youth's gesture at first, unsure how to accept such a gift with gratitude. Taking the flower from her, she smiled slightly, causing the child to smile back before running off again. Vez wondered if this odd child was mute before looking upon the gift she now held in her own hand. Not knowing what to do with something so delicate, but not wanting to discard it too quickly, she held onto it as she mounted her horse, and ended up placing it in her pocket where it would sit forgotten for now.

She did not suspect she'd return to Edoras as she left it, nor the West Fold as they drove towards Dunharrow. These fields were her past, spelling the defeat of her people and her banishment from the West. She had confronted them, asked for a chance at redemption, to fight alongside a people she once wronged and the king accepted her, pardoning her past deeds for the present task mattered more. Along the way, they would stop only momentarily for food and brief rest, for Theodon desired to be among his troops at Dunharrow as soon as possible, to oversee his assembly and build morale before they would move onto Gondor. Vez was requested to scout behind the group; a necessary precaution even if no imminent danger loomed on that horizon. It left her far from the others for most of the trip and time alone to ponder over how much had changed for her since their trek to Helm's Deep where she also scouted from behind. Since then she had accepted what she could not - her elvish blood. The history and culture shared to her, knowledge of her bloodline, and visions of her birthplace, all stirred this recognition. Yet she knew not how to push forward from bleak acceptance. But Legolas helped build a bridge past these doubts, into a world where it was possible to live as an elf and one where it was possible to love. This world still seemed far away, however, for so much lay in its path.

The troops filtered into Dunharrow, with Vez joining them shortly after. She counted the ranks among them as she road through the encampment, adjusting the numbers in her head to the ones she previously envisioned at Edoras. There were fewer riders than she expected, not enough to take on the armies she knew were amassed to await them. While they had till dawn for more to arrive, the current outlook looked bleak for any successful assault.

The sun was beginning to go down by the time she made it up the mountain, via a jagged path cut into the cliff side. Her companions had already settled in, tethered their horses, and found a hot meal to fill their stomachs after a long day of riding. After dismounting, she found herself wrestling with Gizik's reigns, finding the horse had suddenly grown distrustful of her surroundings. She looked towards an open valley in the cliff face and felt that it exuded a cold presence but ignored it, as she cared more about her horse's nerves. Still finding resistance, she spoke to Gizik in Elvish, which she had never done before. Suddenly the horse's demeanor shifted and allowed the words to soothe her worries. After tethering her with the others, and swinging her rucksack over her shoulder, she searched for familiar faces, finding Gimli eating seconds or thirds of hot stew, and Legolas perched nearby with his long bow at his side.

Legolas greeted her with a smile, grateful to see her, followed by saying slyly, "I'm afraid there may be nothing left, the dwarf has not stopped eating since sitting down."

"If this is to be my last meal, then it's not going to be a short one," Gimli added gruffly, brushing stew off his beard with his gloved hand, and then he added in greeting, "Good to see ya lass."

Vez chuckled at their all too common banter, saying, "It's good to be seen," for she had been out of their eyes distance for some time. She looked upon Legolas again, who stood at her side, his presence calmed her, and she gave him a silent greeting. She then said to each of them steadily, though with a hint of disappointment, "There are fewer here than I expected."

"More may arrive by dawn," Gimli added optimistically.

A half smile betrayed her looming pessimism. Having to tend to something, she asked them, "Is there a tent that is ours to use?"

"Aye," Gimli replied, looking toward the one behind them, "Eowyn and Merry are in there now, sure you'd be able to use the space if asked."

She nodded, hoisting her rucksack back on her shoulder, "I'll return shortly," she said politely, not explaining the task she desired to complete.

Before leaving their presence, Merry had departed the tent's flapped entrance, dressed in full Rohan battle armor with a sword in hand, followed closely by Eowyn, cheerfully pushing him off to the smithy. No sooner after Merry had left, practicing the swing of his sword wildly, had her brother intervened in her encouragement, shifting Eowyn's attention and darkening her demeanor.

"You should not encourage him," Eomer spoke assuredly while sitting next to Gamling.

Eowyn held her position, responding, "You should not doubt him."

Then in an attempt to raise a laugh, he replied sardonically, "I do not doubt his heart, just the reach of his arm," which indeed caused Gamling to chuckle covertly.

"Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause go to war as you! Why can he not fight for those he loves?" Eowyn said concerned, finding herself now face to face with her brother.

"You know as little of war as that Hobbit," he said looking her straight in the eye, "When the fear takes him, and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee, and he would be right to do so. War is the province of men, Eowyn."

Legolas, who was behind Vezely, knew she was listening to the entire conversation intently and that what she heard riled her. He placed his hand on shoulder, saying quietly, "Not all battles need to be fought."

Yet Vez was not feeling like holding her tongue. She narrowed her eyes slightly, moving forward into the brother and sister's space of confrontation. "And you know little about this war," she said admonishingly, "Do not think it will be fought solely on a battlefield. It will filter like a raging tide into your cities and towns. War will be the province of everyone if Sauron has his way. You should not prevent those who have a desire to stop it."

Eomer's eyes narrowed on her, taking her diatribe as a threat to his position, though also knowing her words of the encroaching war rang true. He looked again at his sister, not understanding that inside her she held equal desire as he to protect their loved ones, whether on a battlefield or back at Edoras; not knowing that she would also fight to the death and not flee out of fear. "Regardless, on a battlefield or in a town," he continued undeterred, while attempting to not let anger overtake him, "He would still flee out of fear."

Vez shook her head thinking how typical it was for men to think so lowly of others courage, saying steadily, "I have also seen men flee out of fear, leaving their families behind, while women defend their loved ones with weapons fashioned out of household items. You want to see courage, watch a woman try to protect her child from being slaughtered. I have lost men who foolishly thought women did not bare teeth," she breathed in, casting her gaze away from him and slightly adjusting her rucksack back on her shoulder, for these were not pleasant thoughts to share. Thinking out loud before finding the tent's entrance, she said sorrowfully, "If we all had such motivation, perhaps there is hope."

After entering, she knew she should not have acted in such a confrontational manner, but her emotions had not been steady during the journey, and coming upon Dunharrow to a lower than expected troop number did not subsume her growing pessimism. She closed her eyes momentarily, attempting to clear her thoughts before opening them again to the tent's sparse comforts. The small table and chairs provided all the space she needed for her task.


	17. Instruments of Death

Thank you to all my steadfast reviewers who continue to comment and critique me along the way. You have no idea how much influence you have had in this story's trajectory. I take everything you say as encouragement to continue writing and to write better. Much love! :) This chapter and the next will be tying up some lose ends until we move onto the final chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 17 - Instruments of Death**

Legolas refrained from interfering in the prior heated exchange between Vezely and Eomer, staying put and closing his eyes in mild concern, as he hoped it would not heighten for he knew the two had not achieved a comfortable level of amicability since they met. He also knew Vez was not in good spirits upon her arrival, not only by her voiced concern over the scarcity of amassed riders at Dunharrow, but he could sense it. He admitted to himself after Vez disappeared into the tent that he was surprised the argument hadn't grown into something more contentious. While Eomer was certainly not pleased after the exchange, expressing quietly after to Gamling his dislike of her, Legolas knew Vez refrained from inflicting more personal insults. Instead, her words not only defended Merry, but displayed a genuine concern for those who would be affected by this war - showing she cared not only because it gave her a chance for revenge, which she admitted to him before was her sole purpose in this fight.

She had changed so much in his eyes since they fell upon her at the edge of Fangorn, where he would have obliged his impulse to release his arrow to task if Gandalf had not assured him her intentions were amiable. Legolas was not an infallible elf. He could be rash if riled, and arrogant to those he deemed children when compared to his age. Traits he knew he garnered partially from his father. He was also less in experience on foot. He knew some of his current companions, Vez included, had traveled this Middle Earth much farther than he had and seen lands he had only heard stories of. His experience lay in his homeland, for he knew Mirkwood better than most of his kinsmen, and perhaps even better than his own father. There is where his heart truly lied and where he hoped to someday return. When he left it for Rivendell so many months ago, he did not fully comprehend the extent of the task that lay before him, though a shadow and a threat of approaching turmoil had been growing steadily in his and his people's minds during the prior century. Upon acknowledgment that the One Ring was found, his father requested his attendance at Lord Elrond's council, confident in his ability to represent the Woodland Realm in such dark times; and when Legolas offered his bow to the cause, he knew his father would have expected nothing less of his only son. He never truly saw his title as the Prince of Mirkwood a forced burden, for his father never pressured him into court life, or mired him in the trials of daily rule. Desiring instead to protect the forest and his kin, Legolas joined the Woodland Guard, and patrolled alongside others without overt status. At the same time, however, he was not without obligations to his people or presence standing before them. He was Thranduil's son and known as such throughout all elvish kingdoms. And by joining the fellowship, he represented not only his kingdom's people, but all elvendom, as Gimli represented all dwarves. Perhaps this was the defining moment in his life that would forever change the trajectory of his future amongst his people. Furthermore, these past months had changed him, taking him far afoot from his comfort zone while forming friendships with the most unlikely individuals, namely the dwarf. Their common cause aside, his old self may not have been so willing to move past ancient grudges. Perhaps now he accepted the responsibility of his position as prince, understanding the importance to move beyond petty differences and set an example for what is best for all Middle Earth.

Thus, he could not also help but consider what this new relationship meant for him. It would seem unlikely for Thranduil's son, of all elves, to have fallen in love with one of such ill reputation; for her nickname of _Nwalmaer_ (the tormented one) and the story of her corruption by Sauron were well-known, while her actual name and story of redemption were not. Before the skirmish that left her at the mercy of his people in Mirkwood five centuries ago, any news that an elf led a foreign force of men upon lands West of Rhun would have been considered farce. And that an elf was indeed involved in such affairs only furthered growing concerns of the power rising in the East. His father's desire to treat her wounds and release her back into what was now known to be Sauron's grasp, also caused questioning among many of his kinsfolk. It suggested Thranduil was aware of her existence beforehand and perhaps other elders had similar knowledge.

His father would hold a brief meeting with Elrond in the weeks following her departure. Legolas had greeted Lord Elrond upon this visit, and while escorting him to his father's court, he inquired whether his trip had anything to do with their previous visitor. Elrond politely declined to offer further details saying, "There are many topics we must discuss, your previous visitor one among them. But trouble yourself not with her now, Legolas, time must carry the burden of our removal from her trajectory." It was another cryptic response, as the ones his father had provided him when he said there was reasoning behind their paths crossing. When rumors of her bloodline, as child of Dior and Nimloth's lost son Elured, arose, Legolas tried not to overly concern himself with them, though he remained attentive for she was not easily forgotten. He never agreed with his father for letting her go, for she had killed his kin and almost killed another after awaking. And now he admitted to questioning whether her darker history could have been averted if she wasn't - but despite these thoughts being part of his wish to vanish her pain, he knew, as Elrond had mentioned, there was reasoning behind those centuries where she did Sauron's bidding.

The cryptic messages suggested his father and even Lord Elrond foresaw that their paths were intertwined. Perhaps then, his father would not be surprised if she were by his side the day he returned to his homeland. Of course, such optimistic thoughts warmed him and gave him hope of a desired future, but the encroaching battle inevitably led him to querying their possibility. He now desired nothing more than to bring her back to the healing hand of the forest, to move her past the title Nwalmaer, and the attribute it spoke of, and to give her a new start on life, as he would start his anew as an elf who accepted the responsibility of his title; yet all this was beyond his control. He acknowledged her lingering reservations toward their relationship as a need to reconcile her past with her present and future and he simply wanted to provide a comfortable bridge to a life beyond what currently mired her, so she could see herself through this war; though he admitted he knew not whether his own life was similarly forfeit. He did not doubt his skill as a warrior and for an elf to die as such was an honorable end to life on these shores. Yet it was difficult to think of one or both of them not surviving. Yet they would meet again in the Undying Lands, would they not?

* * *

Forgoing additional thought on the previous confrontation with Eomer, Vez swung her rucksack on one of the chairs, propped her sword aside the table, and removed the small pouch of blasting power from her inner jacket pocket. She spilled its contents onto the tabletop, resulting in a small pile of black chips of uneven shape. She had not opened it since Helm's Deep, when she used it to display its power to King Theodon. She was suddenly reminded of the Deeping Wall being brought down; of course, her amount was nowhere near what was used there. Opening her rucksack, she shifted through the sparse items within it which comprised all she owned - her tattered memory book, an ill-shapen brush and now empty inkwell, the leaf that once held the lembas bread Aragorn gave her, an empty tin of tea - to find five spherical metal objects on the bottom. She inspected each one separately as she took them out; one could be grasped in the palm of her hand. Once deciding their mechanics would still function, she lined them up on the table in front of her. Before taking a seat, she removed her jacket. Underneath she wore a fitted brown leather corset. It had a deep v-neckline and braided shoulder straps that crisscrossed in the back, leaving bare her arms, her mid-back and shoulder blades, as well as her neckline, allowing her to feel the cool air from outside shuffling in through the tent's doorway. Once seated, she used her teeth to break the thread line on the bottom hem of her jacket. Unraveling it allowed for a stream of black chips to fall from its folds onto the table. She had sewn them in ages ago, thinking blasting power might come in useful someday and not caring if it was somewhat precarious if her clothes were to find flame. Tearing at more inner hems produced enough small piles of black chips to divide evenly amongst the five metal spheres.

As the last of the chips were removed from the inner seams, one more light shake produced the small flower the child at Edoras had gifted her. It fell on top of the chips, wilted and misshapen, and several of its petals, now detached, caught the breeze from the tent's door and flew off the table. Dropping her jacket to the ground beside her, she picked the delicate item up in her hand and inspected its decayed form; sorrow overtook her momentarily and she clasped her hand around it. Squeezing harder, she killed its shape even more, as her eyes also shut in an attempt to find anger instead of sadness. Anger, for it was easier to hate than care, simpler to be detached than connected to those around her. She knew the numbers at Dunharrow were not enough to break Sauron's forces. No longer could she hope for the future she glimpsed while in Legolas's arms, and instead, as the flower became unrecognizable in her hand, she sought to refocus. _I am only an instrument of death_, she thought to herself, _now put to use against the power that molded me_.

Standing by Gimli, Legolas sensed her shifting emotions, recognizing how their bond now allowed for such a connection to form. He hesitated whether to go to her, but Gimli noted his thoughts and prompted, "You should take her the rest of this," he stated finding him an excuse, while lifting the small pot of stew from the stand, "Otherwise there'll truly be none left," since he had already gone for another round in the meantime.

Legolas half-smiled, grateful for his friend's assistance, taking the lidded pot's hanging handle in his one hand and finding the tent's entrance with his feet. He wavered slightly, not sure if he would be disturbing her privacy, for he knew not what task she needed to complete inside. Pushing the tent's flap to the side, he glanced in, finding her seated with her back towards him, her bare skin illuminated by the light of the oil lamps within. He hesitated for propriety's sake, but she knew it was him and spoke to ease his reservations, "I do not consider myself indecent," she stated in Elvish, then turning her head to the side and glancing at him briefly, "Your company is always appreciated," she held her hand out and he went towards her, as his eyes inspected the black markings that graced her pale skin. There was Rhunic script running down her spine, words whose meaning she had shared with him at Helm's Deep, as well as other symbols sparsely decorating her back shoulders and arms. He was curious of them the first time he noticed their presence, but he did not know of what extent they ran. Elves did not mark their bodies as such, nor did men of high standing. For those in the West, they overtly represented her dangerous origins, as a ruthless member of a foreign horde. And while their presence may have displeased him in the past, now knowing her, he felt they flowed well with her personality and physique, for she had a woman warrior's body - neither frail nor soft, but thin and defined.

He took her hand in his, and brought the back of it to his lips, kissing it softly before he took a seat in the chair next to her, placing the pot of food on the table's side. This gesture brought her eyes back upon him, and she smiled appreciatively through any prior concerns, acknowledging again that she was comforted by his presence.

He slowly moved his eyes to her other hand, which held a metal sphere beneath it, the purpose of which he knew not until he viewed two small piles of black chips and similar devices lined up nearby. His returned gaze queried her purpose, but before explaining she handed him the metal orb in her hand. He slowly took it and inspected it mechanics. A majority of its body was smooth, except for a trap where the blasting chips could be inserted, yet there was more intricate metal and glass work at its base and a thin rope protruding from it as well. Removing her hand from his, Vez placed her fingers lightly atop the one he held to explain its workings, "This twine is inserted aside a small glass chamber filled with oil. When broken, it soaks the rope's end."

She then took an empty sphere from the table, and pointed to a rough hewn piece of metal or flint attached near the rope. "This can be struck against other metal to ignite the outside rope," she brushed it against the tip of her sword's handle to demonstrate, "Once the rope burns down into the oil, the blasting powder inside will explode. One of these can break through the thick hide of a Mûmakil, bringing it down." Vezely seemed detached as she spoke, far removed from the emotions Legolas sensed had previously affected her. She began methodically filling the orb she held with one pile of black chips, adding, "I designed this long ago, but decided against implementation for they are not foolproof," she then smirked slightly in remembrance, "Several men blew themselves up in trials."

"You are reckless," he said sarcastically, betraying his concern and turning her eyes to him quickly.

"I am young," she smiled slightly proud, remembering such discussion of her youth they had prior.

He took her hand again, now showing the concern in his eyes for her prior condition, but she believed it was concern for inventing such a horrible device, for she knew elves did not dabble in mechanical instruments of destruction. It prompted her to remark hastily, "I never passed on its design, if that worries you. Knowledge of it will die with me."

He closed his eyes, "It is not your design that causes me worry," he said quietly, causing her to turn in her chair towards him, uncertain what he'd say. "You have lost hope," he stated with a hint of disappointment strained in his voice.

She looked at him confused at first before turning to equal concern; she placed her hand on the side of his face, causing him to open his eyes to hers, "It is not about hope anymore. We cannot win this fight, Legolas. It is statistically impossible," she confided her conviction, looking into his eyes with similar unease but with seriousness, removing her hand from him, she stated, "But before I die, I will take as many of them with me as I can. That is my hope now, it is all I have."

"It is not," he asserted, "You once told me before similar odds, to not despair," remembering his moments of doubt before the battle of Helm's Deep, and the comfort her confidence brought him, "Why now, on the eve of this battle, do you go against your own convictions?"

She knew what he said was true, she had not despaired before such a battle, entering it without a moment of hesitation or concern of falling. Thinking of how she had changed, she said firmly, "I had nothing to live for then, so I had no need for hope."

"And you foreclose it now in order to find your sword easier to wield," he added as if knowing her reasoning. She would easily forsake love and die without regret than find love a source of power to see her through it.

Vez was surprised how well he could read her, to give words to how she was feeling; she closed her eyes, saying sorrowfully, "I would not foreclose a future by your side but..." she stalled.

"Then do not," he interjected softly, noting her hesitation again; and adding optimism to bitter thoughts of losing, he said encouragingly, "Even on the shores beyond this world."

She looked at him, now more certain he did not know her worries were of finding her spirit trapped in the Halls of Mandos, barred from joining him in the lands of his kin. But could she form words to speak of it, or should she allow him more hope than she allowed herself? After a moment of considering the truth of her love for him she said quietly, "And if I cannot meet you there...If I fall," she suddenly found her voice again, "I may not make it to those shores."

He narrowed his eyes and tried to interject, but she quieted him with her fingers, as he had done to her evenings before, saying concerned, "You know this," and they exchanged mutual regret with their eyes, and pain of this acknowledgement showed on Legolas's face. A moment later she ran her fingers lightly around the tip of his ear and down the side braid in his hair, feeling its silk-like texture while her eyes admired its golden color for it was an all but uncommon hair tone in Rhun. An appreciative smile tried to cover her sorrow, "You have changed me...starting me on the path I always refused to take and I will forever be grateful for a glimpse of a life beyond this, for one by your side," her eyes remained removed from his as she added with regret, "I have given you so little in return..."

These final words confounded him, "That is not true," he protested, lifting her chin up and obliging her eyes back to his, "I once gave up my search for someone who could make me feel the way you do, to fill the void in my heart, relinquishing a desire for a life where I am never alone." For elves did not love without conviction and his heart, now settled, could not simply find love again. He held hope that love would see them through this, and if she fell, she would be shown mercy and allowed to pass into the lands of their kin. He placed his hands on her forearms, saying sternly, "Now that I have found you, I am not giving up that future so do not request this of me."

Her heart dropped for he knew she was going to; she was going to ask him to not lead himself into despair if they were forever put asunder, for she believed such a fate was not worth her love. And while Legolas queried whether their pairing would cause controversy amongst his kin, he would not deny his heart's decision to be with her. He added steadily, "We will make it through this."

Looking him straight in his blue eyes, she saw the intensity she knew them for, ever since she first met their stern gaze in Mirkwood long ago. She wanted to tell him not stake such claims, though she knew he truly believed there was hope for their future. While her fate was not yet decided, could she simply soak in his confidence? She breathed in heavily in an attempt to dissolve the sorrow that blurred her eyesight.

Noting her mixed thoughts and her desire to quell her emotions, he decided to turn her attention, adding firmly, "Now you should eat and rest. You have been attentive for days and I've seen you take little nourishment."

She smiled suddenly, amused at what appeared an attempt to command her; she nodded to his request, silently acknowledging she was not at her optimal strength. His hands were still on her forearms, but before he released them his eyes fell upon the markings gracing her right shoulder. There were several outlines of half circles, touching horizontally, abstractly forming birds soaring on the horizon.

Noting where he stalled his gaze, she spoke of their meaning. "They are gulls," she stated with a small smile, "I spent several years on a campaign out at sea. It was hard to return to land afterwards for I felt soothed by the water's waves crashing against the boat and the sound of the gulls flying overhead when near shore. This reminds me of that time."

Legolas suddenly remembered Galadriel's message to him at Lothlorien._"Legolas Greenleaf,"_ she said, _"Long under tree,_ _in joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!_ _If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,_ _thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more."_ He knew not what to make of this connection and tried to brush off any hint of concern for it in his reply to her, as she looked upon him curious to his thoughts. "Do they all hold such meaning?" he asked, returning to the present.

"They do. Perhaps one day I will share them all with you," she said slyly, liking the thought of his eyes upon her body.

He immediately blushed, knowing what she referred to, and he slowly moved his hands to hers before standing from his seat. She stood with him, her hands still grasped in his, wondering if she was too forward in her speech as she was forward in kissing him the prior evening. She was not attuned to proper etiquette or norms of courtship in these lands nor above what she deemed only natural lust for the one she loved. Legolas admitted to being overly aroused by her and desired nothing more than to take her in his arms and roam his fingers over her bare arms and back, but he felt he should not yet overstep such boundaries despite the fact that the circumstances disallowed for a proper betrothal. He would try to uphold traditions for the sake of his people, and for her, for she deserved respect and for their relationship to not be mired in rumors of base desire run amok.

She looked down at their hands clasped together, knowing he may soon take his leave in hopes that she would eat and rest, though she wished he would stay at her side a little longer. She lifted their hands between them, and kissed the back of his fingers softly, noting his pleasure as she did so. She then spoke softly, "I will do what you ask. Know that you have soothed troubled thoughts."

The warmth of her lips against his skin and the sound of her voice calmed some of his lingering worries. She did not release his grasp immediately as he stepped away, and when she let go, he quickly desired to hold her hands again. He returned to Gimli's side, but the dwarf had fallen asleep in his stool, snoring while leaning forward on his axe. Aragorn had left council with Theodon and arrived by his side shortly after. Legolas similarly encouraged his friend to rest before they would ride out tomorrow. Soon the fair elf was left alone to his thoughts, resting his mind while leaning on his long bow slightly. To keep his mind steady, he envisioned a future away from war, back in his homeland, with her hand in his and the forest surrounding them.

After returning her now operational metal spheres to her rucksack and putting back on her jacket which now was noticeably lighter, Vez followed the orders she was lovingly given. Eating what little was left of the stew made her stomach warm and helped ease her to sleep; despite the cot not being the most comfortable sleeping apparatus. After purposefully clearing some troubled thoughts and replaying in her mind his endearing words, her mind was able to drift off.

* * *

Legolas instantly grew aware of the camp's approaching visitor, and he silently made his way to the cliff face to welcome him.

"Greetings," he said in Elvish, showing deference to the hooded figure by bowing his head and taken his hand to his chest before extending it. While the hooded man on horseback was unannounced, Legolas knew it was Lord Elrond and his purpose in regards to Aragorn.

"Greetings, Legolas. You know why I am here. For the time is right," he replied assuredly, departing from his horse's saddle.

Legolas instinctively took the horse's reigns as if an esquire, for Elrond deserved such courtesy. He then queried his suspicion, "The sword has been reforged?"

Elrond nodded in affirmative response. "I will need to speak to King Theodon before Aragorn is summoned, but first," he looked at him sincerely, "You and your father's previous visitor, I would like to speak to her."

Legolas knew he spoke of Vezely, and he began escorting Elrond and his horse to the tent where she was resting. As he tethered the horse's reigns nearby, he stated concerned, "She has questions, ones I could not answer," hoping Elrond would provide her this knowledge.

Elrond turned towards Legolas and placed his hand on his shoulder, "And questions you also have," he said knowingly. "Long ago I asked you not to trouble yourself with her troubles because I knew in time you would become enmeshed in them. That you have accepted and assisted her this far, I am grateful." Legolas nodded in deference to his gratitude, noting internally how he no longer viewed doing so as a task. Elrond continued, "But your path will now lead you from her side, as she will similarly embark on her own journey."

Legolas was disheartened to hear that they were soon to be parted, and sensing such Elrond added, "Fear not, you are stabilizing force for her on this road."

"As she is for me," he replied assuredly.

Elrond sensed his conviction, and the bond he obviously held with her. He did not question it, for their partnership may very well have been decided before time.

Legolas decided to first alert Vez of Elrond's presence, entering quietly and adjusting the oil lamp's flame to further illuminate the small space. She was curled up on her side on the cot, not facing him, though she stirred from the muffled sounds and the light, turning on her back and slowly opening her eyes to find him kneeling beside her cot.

"Vezely," he said softly, his hand softly caressing the side of her face, watching enchanted as her eyes opened to his. "I am sorry to wake you, but there is a visitor from Rivendell who has requested to speak with you." Her eyes suddenly went wide and alert, knowing whom he referred. He offered her his hand for assistance up, confiding in his eyes encouragement as she was about to confront the unknown, "I will send him in."

Vezely stood there uneasy, her nerves afire, for she would look upon the one who her current life would not have been possible. For without his interference, she would have been brought down with Dol Guldur when the White Council stormed it and drove out Sauron. A moment after Legolas stepped out, a tall cloaked figure entered, dressed in long regal, velvet robes, exuding a presence of authority.

As he slowly removed his hood, Vezely immediately knelt to the ground in deference, "Lord Elrond," she said, unable to look him in the eye. Finding her Elvish voice, she added, "I am indebted to you."


	18. Broken Paths

**Chapter 18 - Broken Paths**

Elrond cuffed the oversize sleeve of his velvet cloak over his hand as he knelt in front of the young elf before him; using it to gently prompt her chin up, meeting her weary gaze with determined inquisition. He investigated the color of her eyes, the freckles outlining the bridge of her nose and cheeks, realizing this was indeed the child once placed in his arms over five centuries ago; yet she was also not the same. Her eyes once full of youthful glow now betrayed a twisted and dark past, while the missing tip of her ear symbolized her fall from grace. Likewise, Vezely inspected his wizened face; seeing in his age lines the wisdom of time, and in his grey orbs the remnants of many futures he had seen come to pass. Though his gaze was stern, she could perceive he held a gentle heart, and one currently troubled; though she knew not whether such pain went beyond the commonality of all who were alive in these dark times, or if they were of a more personal matter.

"_Nwalmaer_ (tormented one)," he addressed her solidly in Elvish, his voice commanding but gentle, "It is what I named you for such a tragedy to befall our kind is uncommon. Yet that was not your name when first we met," he stated a moment later, prompting her to stand with a gentle prodding of her forearm.

Not fond of the title she was given or to be told of another estranged name, especially when there was other information she desired to know, led Vezely to respond somewhat brazenly, "But I stand before you ill-suited for either."

He held his head high, narrowing his eyes on hers after having further taken in her unconventional appearance. He sensed her unease and knew he would need to consider his words carefully before speaking them. He conceded with raised eyebrow, "You have questions."

"And you have answers," she responded quickly, and then slightly mitigating her forthright stance, knowing she was being impolite, "I do not want to appear ungrateful, for undoubtedly I am for I would not be alive without your aid, but I do question your reasoning in saving me from Dol Guldur."

After a moment he stated knowingly, "You question whether you are worthy of redemption."

Her eyes shifted away from him, considering her words as he was considering his. Returning a serious gaze, she spoke solidly, "I am not _Nwalmaer_, but one who tormented others. I may have been Sauron's pawn, taken for his needs, but I also willingly submitted to his will, and took pleasure fulfilling his purpose. Present remorse aside, offering me a second chance, a path to redemption for shared bloodline alone...such favor may have been misplaced."

Elrond noted the emotions circulating behind her words. He sensed her continued uncertainty of place and position in this world, one he hoped further information could stabilize. He stated, "Your father asked me to protect you," getting straight to the reason for his aid.

"My father?" Vez inquired, her eyes wavering, "You are aware I have no memories from before I was taken."

He had known this, for the Blue Wizard had sent him correspondences on her recovery. "Sauron repressed them. For such memories of your parent's love and your true homeland would have inevitably driven you from his grasp long ago," he explained, also knowing though not mentioning that Sauron continued to hold some power over her psyche - the reason why these memories did not return and her scars would not heal. He then provided further details of her birth parents, "Elured, son of Dior and Nimloth, he was your father. He survived his abandonment as a child, but his twin, Eluren, did not. The torment of losing his brother led him into desired exile, and he lived his life under an alias in the Woodland Realm. Even his sister, Elwing, did not know. His lingering uncertainty of life on these shores was however, mended by the love of your mother, a Woodland elf by the name of Rovian. They lived what seemed like a blissful existence, even though Elured feared what he perceived as the curse of his bloodline. This fear grew even more cogent when you were conceived. He desired nothing more than to sail to the Utter West, but Rovian was not yet prepared to leave her homeland and desired to wait until after you were born; until you had experienced life in their homeland so such memories could also be yours in Valinor..."

Vezely's eyes showed her uneasiness at this information, knowing that her parent's decision to wait on these shores ended in their murder by invading orcs. Such a history prompted her to conceive that her bloodline was truly cursed.

He continued steadily, "...His fears and visions prompted him to relinquish his anonymity and contact me. I promised, as I held you in my arms, to protect you if anything should happen...It was not suspected that you survived the orc attack that took your parent's life until your armies descended on the Wold. It was then confirmed when you entered Northern Mirkwood."

"And yet King Thranduil released me?" Vez considered out loud, appearing to bypass acknowledgment of her parent's care for her, for they still felt distanced from her current life. Instead, she interrogated Elrond on this incident, "For he knew, as you did."

Elrond was undeterred by her bold curiosity, "You could not simply be broken from Sauron's grasp. Such detachment would need to be of your own making. It was your imprisonment in Dol Guldur that proved to the White Council that you had forged your own path away from Sauron's will; that you were not beyond redemption."

Vezely was strained in contemplation; she closed her eyes, trying to quell her mixed emotions, "It is hard to see my imprisonment as worthy of such esteemed consideration by your council, for it does not account for the terrible things I have done. And my disobedience to Sauron, if you can even consider it such, was falsely magnified by the whispers of my second in command, who desired my position and power."

"And yet here you are professing humility in the face of it, and remorse upon reflection," Elrond responded profoundly. "Even the smallest seed can grow. Despite your uncertainty, you are on the right path."

She kept her weary eyes from his. He was a sage whose blood she truly shared, but whose wisdom she obviously did not. She shook her head slightly in disbelief, though no words could be found, as she thought of her insignificance in questioning his knowledge. She tried to hold her tongue and still her thoughts of disagreement.

Having his own inquiry, Elrond asked boldly, "Now I have a question for you," which caused her eyes to quickly turn to his, "You survived the dungeons of Dol Guldur without falling into despair or madness; how is this so?" For he thought of his wife, Celebrian, who was captured and tormented by orcs, thereafter suffering an emotional wound that would not heal, therefore prompting her to sail into the Utter West.

She straightened her posture, gaining some pride from what she considered her reason for survival, "Sauron thought as you did, that I would be destroyed in my cell; that I would succumb to what he deemed as the emotional weakness of my blood. But he woefully underestimated the influence of whose hands he placed me. I was raised a Balchoth. To die without a sword in my hand, in the cage of your enemy, is to fail at all your desires in life."

He seemed slightly surprised, for it seemed incomprehensible that her adopted culture that turned her into a ruthless killer also saved her. "I sense you now stand as two sides of the same coin and yet you remain unsure of how to be one."

"And my struggle with reconciliation will remain incomplete," she replied solidly. "I do not know the main purpose of your journey to Dunharrow, but unless you brought with you a substantial army, Rohan does not have enough men to win this fight. You know this as well as I."

His eyes narrowed on hers; surprised she had already admitted defeat even without knowing as he did of the Corsairs ships sailing towards Gondor. He decided to provide her insight as to his journey, "There is an army yet to be summoned and one who could summon it. I bring information and hope that it will be done," he then added encouragingly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Stay your path as others forge theirs."

She discerned this information had the possibility of altering this war's trajectory, while also suspecting her path would now truly be set apart from Legolas's, making her heart hurt. Instead of questioning him further, she nodded in solidarity, "I will remain grateful to you for allowing me to be on such a path, wherever it leads."

Accepting her gratitude with a small smile, he looked one last time at her eyes. Perhaps, he thought, the light of the Eldar had not yet abandoned her. The thought of his daughter Arwen crossed his mind and the pain of her decision to be mortal hit his heart. But knowing his time was short, he did not let his thoughts or eyes linger and made his leave, providing comfort in his final words, "I have brought you armor. Wear it with the pride of your blood, as you fight with the strength of your culture."

Her eyes showed surprise not only at the gift, but also for his words. She bowed her head humbly, not knowing how else to express thanks.

* * *

Legolas patiently waited by Gimli until Elrond finished his conversation with Vezely, hoping she would learn more about her past than he could provide her before. Gimli remained asleep in his chair, snoring in his usual manner. Legolas did not wish to stir him, hoping to give his friend as much rest as possible before they would depart. He would soon lead Elrond to King Theodon's tent, knowing not to pry on the previous conversation, despite his own curiosity.

"Your father is proud of you, Legolas," Elrond spoke along their way, referring to Legolas's initiative to join the fellowship, "As are your people."

Humbled by such announcement, Legolas responded gratefully, "If only I could be in both places at once, for I know war now marches on my homeland."

"Cloud not your thoughts with uncertainty of your current path," he said encouragingly. "There is still hope for this world whose shores we must all inevitably leave."

Legolas bowed his head as Elrond entered King Theodon's tent, gaining some peace from the elder's words. Knowing he was short on time, he returned quickly to the tent where Vez remained, finding the young elf outside kneeling on the ground, inspecting the silver armor given to her by her kin. She had not worn armor since her days as a general, and even then, her Easterling armor, though highly sophisticated, did not match the craftsmanship of what she now inspected before her. It was strong, expertly crafted, and surprisingly lightweight. The metal was layered in thin sheets to allow for ease of movement, and it appeared to have been fitted for her frame. She was staring blankly down at the helmet in her lap, appearing to inspect its exterior though in reality she was deep in contemplation of the prior conversation - she was uncertain whether to simply accept the wisdom of her kin and have hope, especially when she'd be separated from the one who helped her hold onto it. She heard Legolas approaching and turned her head towards him, meeting his fair eyes with equal bittersweet acknowledgement; their time together was near its end. She spoke to him softly in Elvish, hoping to not alert others to their personal conversation. "Our paths diverge," she said, stating the words neither of them desired to hear.

He offered her his hand and she placed the helmet on the ground next to her before taking it, using it to lightly position herself in front of him, though she did not release it once there.

"I must go with Aragorn," he said with conviction in front of her, his eyes not fully hiding his sorrow over leaving her.

"And I must stay with Rohan," she replied with equal certainty, though her eyes were full of unease.

"But we will meet again," Legolas stated, his strong gaze inquiring her to believe him, for he still worried of her wavering uncertainty. As if seeking reassurance, he added, "For our destination will always be the same."

Slight optimism in the form of a small smile graced Vezely's face, "I will do what I have to in order to be at your side again," she replied solidly, her demeanor and words displaying the little hope she held onto. She at least wanted to let him know that it was her desired destination as well.

Grateful for her acknowledgement of this, a moment later he added in all too common tone taken between them, "Don't be too reckless;" his smooth sarcasm being an attempt at levity.

His words amused her enough to crack her melancholy demeanor; she retorted slyly with one eyebrow raised, "At least I have proper armor now," for he had posed concern for its absence prior to the battle at Helm's Deep.

A wide smile grew across his face, realizing he had similar worries for her back then as he did now, even if he knew she could handle fighting without armor. The way his smile lit up his face was infectious, causing Vezely's own lips to mirror his. Seeing her so prompted Legolas to look upon her with eyes knowing it would be some time before he could do so again. He roamed the freckles lining the bridge of her nose and cheeks, the motley colors encircling the black pupils of her eyes, the softness of her lips, hoping to remember these finer details when they were apart.

Vez noted his investigation and how soft his eyes felt on her, realizing that she did not mind being observed as such by him. But as he did this, she saw a glimmer of sorrow behind his gaze, as if he was questioning as she had whether they would see each other again. She brought her hands to sides of his face, turning his eyes to center on hers, "We will meet again on the battlefield," she asserted trying to believe it herself, and desiring to give him the reassurance she also needed, "And we will fight by each others side and stand together in the sun of victory."

Legolas saw the same intensity she had in her eyes prior to the battle of Helm's Deep; a return of her battle-ready optimism, bred into her from her adopted culture. The odds did not matter. Such certainty had calmed him prior to that battle, as it calmed him now.

She then, as before, added her clan's words, the meaning of the ink markings down her spine, "Strength in time of darkness, courage in time of fear, death to those who oppose you."

"And not your own," he added as he had before, as an appreciative smile graced his lips.

"Not your own," she replied with a similar tone, feeling as he did the warmth of this recent nostalgia. She lightly ran her fingers from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, causing him to close his eyes in the pleasure of her light touch. She considered momentarily to press her lips against his, but forewent her desire, knowing perhaps she had been too bold in doing so before. Instead her eyes graced the features of his face, noting how the moonlight reflected on his pale skin, the sharp angles of his cheekbones, his long black eyelashes, doing what he did just prior, but feeling as if she may not see him again. He reopened his eyes to hers, finding in them a similar longing to not forget. Suddenly, he engaged his own impulse and embraced her, pulling her body into his, and kissing her gently. She was taken aback by his action at first, not expecting he would take the initiative, but she easily reciprocated, running her fingertips over his ears into his soft hair, clasping her hands behind his neck, and giving him reign over her body with his embrace.

Mere seconds later, an interruption came in the form of a gruff "hmmph," for Gimli had unknowingly encroached upon their intimate space.

Their bittersweet kiss came to a halt; their lips parted and they opened their eyes, while Vez quickly moved her hands to his shoulders and he moved his from her upper back to around her waist. They smiled at each other slightly embarrassed by being discovered, before looking upon Gimli who attempted to act normal for he knew of their secret romance for some time.

"We should probably go lad," Gimli spoke apologetically, having heard Aragorn saddling up and gauging his purpose to leave before the dawn.

Legolas nodded to his friend, before looking at Vezely as they were both starting to release their embrace. Holding his one hand firmly, her eyes displayed to him the same confidence she had prior their kiss to let him know she held onto some hope that they would see each other again. He gave her a similar look of confidence before moving from her side to grab his gear; their hands releasing only when his steps took him too far away.

"Until we meet again lass," Gimli said as farewell to her.

Vez looked upon him kindly, hoping it would be so, and then saying determined, "And if it is on the battlefield, I will try to save some orcs for you."

He chuckled at a comment he would have made, before also turning away from her with a hopeful smile. Legolas turn his gaze upon her one last time before moving to where their horse was tethered. Their eyes met and exchanged a final reassurance of their commitment to their shared destination.

* * *

As the three travelers left the camp, riding on horseback towards the Dimholt Road, a gathering of Rohan's soldiers started querying, worriedly, as to why the group was departing. Vezely, arms crossed and in contemplation, watched the three riders from afar, overhearing the conversation taking place.

"Why does he leave on the eve of battle?" One soldier asked concerned.

Gamling, who held highest rank among them, replied disturbed, "He leaves because there is no hope."

Theodon had joined them from the side, the same concern in his eyes, not for Aragorn's departure, but for his men's feeling of despair. "He leaves because he must," he stated forthrightly, knowing the truth.

Gamling, suspecting as others that their troop numbers were too low since not many more men arrived that night, replied carefully, "Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor."

Theoden knew this as well, "No, we cannot," he looked at several of his men momentarily, then gaining strength in his eyes, he added proudly, "But we will meet them in battle _nonetheless_."

Vezely noted the king's confidence, the intensity in his eyes, the assurance in his voice; he was prepared to lead his men against whatever odds, to serve as their steadfast leader, and to not turn away in despair. They needed a role model, a leader, and his current stance provided it. As he left his men, he passed near her, stopping momentarily and engaging his eyes briefly with hers, "We will hold council before we depart."

Vez nodded in deference to his request, knowing now with her companions gone, she was truly at the mercy of the king's demands. She would return to the tent to gather her belongings, finding Merry standing outside slightly unsure of his bearings, having been left behind as a lone member of the fellowship, and feeling somewhat discarded.

Vez approached him with a commiserating smile, placing a hand on his shoulder, "You are not alone, Merry," and then adding encouragingly, "We should pack up, it is nearly dawn."

Merry appreciated her acknowledgment of his predicament and having a task to complete helped move each of them past the uneasiness of their comrades' departure. Vez retrieved her rucksack from inside the tent, and transferred her blasting powder spheres into her saddle bag, realizing while sifting through her other items, that none of them needed to make the journey into battle - the empty tea tin, the broken brush and dried inkwell, even her memory book and maps. Holding her memory book in her hands, she felt its familiar weight, noted the spots where its cover was most worn, and she ran her fingers over where its binding was becoming unhinged. She thought of the personal stories she wrote on its pages and how when they first flooded back into her mind after captivity, they had not made sense or connected in any fluid manner. No longer did she need to remember the past via written word, for her mind had recovered and the pieces all fit together again. Without a moment more of hesitation, she let the book slide from her hands into the flames of the fire pit below, which graciously enveloped it as needed fuel, turning the tattered paper into cinders and ash. She watched it burn as if observing an experiment, not seeing such a act as symbolic of moving on or letting go of her past. No, her past was not to be forgotten; it should not be. Instead, she thought longingly of the memories the book and her mind did not contain - those of her childhood in Mirkwood, of the parents that bore her, and the love they must have given her before their deaths. She wondered why these memories continued to elude her.

Only a mirror and a charcoal pencil would be salvaged from her belongings, stashed in her rucksack's front pocket, and soon to be used in ritual preparation for battle. She would line her eyes as an Easterling, but wear the armor of her Elvish kin, embracing both her sides while fighting against the armies of the One who divided her.

Before dawn broke, Vez would find Eowyn standing in contemplation of the morning's events. She was staring down on the camp below from the cliff's face, weary and hesitant of her current position - unsure whether to break in the direction of her desires or return to Edoras as was her requested duty.

Vez noted her delicate condition, suspecting more then this choice hung over her head, though not fully knowing that the sting of unrequited love still lingered in her. "I know not the words of comfort to offer you," Vez said truthfully, but kindly while at her side, also looking at the camp down below, which started to stir with the creeping sunlight.

"They need not be said," Eowyn replied gaining some self-assurance now knowing her female companion did not depart with the others. She added steadily, "I have made my decision." This caused Vez to turn to her in anticipation. "I will fight in this war."

To aid her, Vez usurped armor and clothing from empty tents nearby, for Eowyn would need to be disguised as just another one of Rohan's soldiers. Handing her these items, the two women exchanged a look of confidence of the paths set before them. "I will not speak to you again," Vez stated, knowing doing so would alert others of her presence and run the risk of sending her away. She then added with a small smile, her hand on her forearm, saying words she shared with her once before, "Remember, it's a man's world, not because it should be, but because we let them have it."

Eowyn smiled kindly at the woman warrior, nodding to agree, and feeling grateful for her continued validation of her cause. She then added as her farewell, "I hope we will meet again."

"So do I," Vez replied optimistically before leaving Eowyn to her transformation. She knew the shield maiden's courage would not waver and felt she would do great things on the battlefield.

* * *

Now dressed in elvish armor and with her eyes lined in charcoal, Vezely headed to King Theodon's tent to hold council before they would all ride to Gondor, and likely to their deaths.


	19. On the Fields of Pelennor

Thought a timeline would help place things - I melded Vezely's story with actual events in the Third Age; hope it sounds plausible enough!

**Vezely's Timeline**

**TA 2455: **Born

**TA 2460: ** Sauron returns to Middle-earth and establishes himself in Dol Guldur in southern Mirkwood.

**TA 2461:** Orcs begin to raid Mirkwood elf territory. Vezely's parents, Elured and Rovian are among the first causalities. Sauron desired an elf child to pervert as revenge for the elves' refusal of an alliance long ago. The child, Vezely, is taken to Dol Guldur and given by Sauron to the Balchoth, a fierce clan of Easterling warriors, to raise as their own in preparation for his future plans. Her memories are repressed to aid in her transition.

**TA 2510:** Under orders of Sauron, the Balchoth led by Vezely, and other clans of Easterlings invade Rhovanion and Gondor, conquering much of Calenardhon. The alliance between Rohan and Gondor comes into existence. The Easterlings launch a massive invasion of Gondor, but are driven back by the people of Éothéod; Gondor gives the now-uninhabited province of Calenardhon to the people of Éothéod.

**TA 2545:** The Balchoth engages Rohan at the Battle of the Wold. Eorl the Young, 1st king of Rohan, dies in the battle, slain by Vezely. In retreat, Vezely enters Northern Mirkwood with a small band of surviving Balchoth, seeking a quicker route to Dol Guldur. Vezely barely survives a skirmish with the Woodland guard. King Thranduil treats her wounds and releases her. Vezely returns to Dol Guldur, and Sauron makes her a general in charge of restructuring and managing the Easterling armies, who, due to their prior defeats, have proven inadequate to conquer the West.

**TA 2545-2860:** Vezely spends her time on campaigns forcing submission of the East to Sauron, while perfecting war strategies and building a proper army for the eventual invasion of the West.

**TA 2860:** Betrayed by her second in command, Öldür, who helped deem her as untrustworthy due to a string of "softer" war tactics, Sauron imprisons Vezely in the dungeons of Dol Guldur.

**July, TA 2941:** The White Council drives Sauron out of Dol Guldur. Elrond, her blood cousin, convinces the White Council to release Vezely and put her under the care of the Blue Wizards who assist her in regaining her memory and strength. She becomes an unlikely and slightly unwilling member of the resistance.

**3019:** Vezely is relocated to the West by the Blue Wizards to fight in the War of the Ring; at the end of February she meets Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas on the edge of Fangorn Forest - chapter 1 commences.

* * *

**Chapter 19 - On the Fields of Pelennor**

Right after dawn broke, the camp at Dunharrow was in the full swing preparing to leave for Gondor. Now fully armed, her horse saddled, eyes lined in black, and body adorned in the silver armor gifted to her by her Elvish kin, Vezely entered King Theodon's lavishly adorned tent. Banners lined the interior walls, motley colored animal skins adorned the floor as rugs, and a table strewn with maps and spent candles took Vezely back to the time when she was a general, having lived in tents of similar aesthetic. Theodon stood with one hand leaning on the table before him, contemplating the route they were about to depart on, while Eomer stood aside him, his posture straight and demeanor determined. Both were also dressed in their full battle gear - chainmail and intricately detailed, red and gold toned leather chest plates. The guard outside had announced Vezely's entrance, though the two horse lords did not stop their conversation when she stepped inside.

Finishing his sentence on line divisions, Theodon spoke to her without turning his head, "We need your elf eyes before our approach," he said, desiring her to scout ahead of the troops and report back on the legions ahead of them. He then added bluntly, "And you will fight alongside Eomer's eored."

She gauged this information was equally unexpected to his nephew, who turned his suddenly widened eyes upon his uncle, internally querying why he would have her fight beside him and his men, especially when he continued to place little trust in her.

Vezely nodded to the request, "As you wish," she answered politely, unconcerned about her placement as long as she could fight.

Theodon then added, "Eomer, your eored will engage the Variags if they join us, for our strongest riders are best suited for their chariots."

Eomer did not disagree with this assessment, since the eored were Rohan's most advanced horsemen, and though he remained uncertain about Theodon's prior command of having Vezely in her troop, he nodded in acceptance.

Appearing to have settled his plans, Theodon removed his hand from the table and straightened his posture. "Good," then placing a hand firmly on Eomer's forearm next to him, he requested his nephew to specific task, "Let all know we must ride light and swift. It's a long road ahead. Men and beast must reach the end with strength to fight." Eomer then left for the entrance, causing Vezely to step aside. She bowed her head respectfully as he left; an act which Eomer acknowledged but did not reciprocate.

After Eomer left, Theodon stood before her, now engaging her with his stern eyes, "I have another request."

Vezely was uncertain what he could desire, but conceded to accept it.

"Look after my nephew," he said with sincere concern hidden under a firm demeanor, "He is Rohan's future and one I would have set forth."

Not necessarily at ease with playing bodyguard, but without much sway to reject such orders, Vezely replied steadily, "I will do what I can to help ensure that future, as part of my debt to Rohan and to you for the mercy you have shown."

His eyes showed appreciation; he considered saying he did not regret providing her this mercy, though held back words of gratitude. Vez did not expect any such words either.

As they departed the tent, with Vez trailing behind the king, Theodon spoke slightly intrigued, turning his head to the side, "You get to witness a repeat of history. Rohan and Gondor together again under one banner."

It was true that it was her people's invasion of Rhovanion and Gondor that led to the first alliance between the two states of men. An unpleasant past to have mentioned, but one which Vez found herself able to reply to the king with sincerity, "And may it again prove itself strong, for all our sakes."

* * *

Vezely rode Gizik hard, trekking far ahead Rohan's forces to gain sight of their future engagement. Gizik was a horse perfectly suited for such a task; bred as a swift dessert war horse, able to make long treks and never tire of carrying a rider. Vezely had many horses over her lifespan, but Gizik was her first personal horse since her captivity in Dol Guldur; having won her in a gambling match from a man who drank too much and bid his possessions hastily - a poor trait when put against a seasoned gambler as herself. The horse had seen only minor skirmishes before coming West, but she was well prepared for the battle before them, as her breed was known for having a steadfast demeanor, undeterred by the shock that war could induce. In the past years, the horse also became her confidant, especially on her journey out West when she crossed inhospitable lands and dealt with the harsh realities of her own insecurity. She patted the horse's neck upon her stop on a ridge overlooking Gondor's valleys below, thanking her for her steadfast friendship, since the battle before them could lay waste to both their lives.

There she was able to peer beyond to the White City of Minas Tirith, standing bright against a dark rock face of the expanding mountain range behind it. She could see the outline of a black mass of orcs encircling the fields outside its gates. The surrounding air smelled foul of the wafting remnants of burnt wood and flesh, while the shadows of smoke could be spotted on the grounds at the bottom level of the city's many layers. Once closer she discovered the lower level had been breached, the orc armies were substantial as expected, and she spotted to the north and east other legions advancing - confirming her assumptions of the Haradrim and Variags joining the battle.

She would ride back to relay this information, her keen eyesight finding the troops stopped alongside a lake to rest momentarily and to take food and drink. Eomer met her on a ridge nearby, looking upon her sternly after she relayed her information, considering breaking words of warning for her to obey his orders when given to his eored.

But before such words could be dispersed from his mouth, Vez added her own, saying earnestly, "In another time, you and I would be enemies, but today we fight common cause and with common heart. Fear not my allegiance or my ability to follow orders."

He breathed in heavily through his nostrils, quelling what prior was a desire to chastise her, "Enemies indeed, but I will cast prior concern aside. All I ask is you live up to your expectations."

Vez nodded respectfully, adding solidly before he left, "I have one request," causing Eomer's eyes to narrow on her, for he deemed her not in a position to make any, "The leader of the Variags, he is mine."

Eomer had heard of her suspicion that the leader was her former second in command, one who betrayed her and had a hand in her imprisonment. "Fair enough, I will not stand in your way," he said, for he knew he could not keep her from long desired revenge.

He took off towards the encampment, and Vez trailed behind him, her eyes scanning the legion of horsemen for a shield maiden and a hobbit of the Shire. Upon spotting them, she did not let her eyes linger for fear of garnering Eowyn unnecessary attention, but internally she was grateful the two would engage in battle alongside her; admiring that their convictions to do so were nobler than her own. Her thoughts inevitably shifted to her other three Western companions, far afield on a task she did not know the specifics of or whether they would succeed and join them on the battlefield she just viewed from afar. Legolas's touch yet lingered in her mind, the taste of his lips still on her mouth. A strange sweetness to carry into war, but carry it she did along with the little hope she yet held onto in her heart.

* * *

Legolas stood aboard the Corsair ship as they sailed down the River Anduin past the port of Pelargir. Aragorn had successfully enticed the Men of the Mountain to aid their cause, dispatching the pirates that once manned the ship's docks. They were steadily treading their way to Minas Tirith, hoping to make it in time to lend aid to Rohan's forces.

Near the port, white gulls soared overhead, mewing as they swooped downward towards the shuffling waters; their sounds in unison with the crashing waves that hit against the wooden boards of the ship's hull as it pushed through them. These sounds soothed Legolas and his heart felt adrift. His mind filled with thoughts of the land beyond these shores, of Valinor; a home he never knew, but the home of all his people and one all elves must one day depart to. He never had such thoughts occupy his mind before - a pure longing to go to a place other than his homeland. _The call of the Valar_ had found him, as Galadriel foretold in Lothlorien. Yet as it soothed, it also stirred troubled thoughts. He knew not why he should hear it now, in the midst of this war, and after finding the one he desired to spend eternity with. Was it an omen? Did it speak of the fate of the one who held his heart; of his own? Would they only be able to meet again on those shores beyond?

Aragorn placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder, "We will make it in time," he said sincerely, hoping to ease woes with reassurance.

Legolas nodded, but saying concerned, "As my mind goes to distant shores." He turned towards his friend, engaging him with his eyes and saying steadily, "Beware the sea. The omen Lady Galadriel spoke of. I believe my time to leave these shores has come."

Aragorn's eyes showed unease, for he hoped such longing did not suggest he would take the alternate route to Valinor, which was death.

Legolas placed a hand on Aragorn's forearm, "But my commitment to the fellowship is stronger," he added determined, knowing what worry lay in his friend's head. "I will not sail away until such bonds are untied. You have my word."

While their ships carried the reinforcement needed to decimate the forces amassed at Minas Tirith, their only true hope of ending this war and defeating Sauron and his armies of darkness lay with two hobbits of the Shire, slowly trekking their way into Mordor. They knew not their progress or whether they still lived. All they could do was take one battle at a time.

* * *

Rohan's arrival was proudly announced by the blast of a dozen horns, as the horse riders halted momentarily along a heightened crest, in preparation to engage their enemies upon the fields of Pelennor. Their eyes were immediately assaulted by the mass of orcs standing before the White City, whose bottom level lay thick in smoke and licking flames; tarnished were its ivory walls, as dark clouds further hid them from the sun's light.

Breathing was halted amongst the front lines as they witnessed the masses before them; an expected number no doubt, but overwhelming to the visual senses. Vezely, who was stationed alongside the other eored, looked upon Sauron's forces with her mind attempting calculation of the numbers, comparing them to her prior estimates and garnering some pride upon finding them close to accurate. She breathed in steadily, undeterred by the near future, her adrenaline already kicking in - she was prepared and eager to enter her element.

Ahead of his legions, King Theodon turned his horse quickly. With his eyes determined and fearless, he commanded his men with steadfast voice, "Éomer! Take your eored down the left side."

"Yes, my lord," Eomer responded at his side before kicking his horse into gear.

"Gamling, follow the King's banner down the center. Grimbold, take your company right, after you pass the wall. Forth, and fear no darkness!" Now alone up front, Theodon addressed his men, ascending his voice far afield. "Arise! Arise! Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword-day! A red day, _ere the sun rises_!" He clanked his sword against spears while riding down the line in front of them, putting courage into all who heard his voice and witnessed his commanding presence. "Ride now, ride now, ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending! Death!"

The final word resounded and repeated amongst them. A battle call that easily stirred Vezely's warrior heart, for her clan's words also sung in her head, and she swelled with anticipation of the blood she would soon spill on the fields before her.

"Forð Eorlingas!" Horns would also announce their descent into battle, as momentum took their horse's steady gallops into a full charge. Arrows were shot, riders were discharged from their horses, but their line was not easily broken. They crashed into the orcs, easily dispatching their numbers from the high position of horseback. Too easily perhaps that Thoedon forgot that orcs were not the only legions ready to meet them on the field that day. As Eomer commanded his eored to drive the orcs to the river, with many already fleeing the steel that greeted them, Theodon called to all, "Make safe this city."

Yet immediately following his elation, the earth began to tremble below them. Their heads turned before their horses; their eyes finding a line of over twenty mûmakil quickly coming their way.

"Saladan," the name of the Haradrim's leader escaped Vezely's lips, as a corner of her mouth curled up, "Impressive," she added, for such display of force that simultaneously shook the ground below them and visually set palpable fear into the hearts of those around her was an admirable psychological tactic. Despite her removal from a life where she was steeped in such battlefield productions, she could not help but think highly of such ability. Vezely turned Gizik towards them, waiting anxiously for Theodon to call his riders forward, knowing they would need to be engaged head-on, and hoping she would not need to step in and make any commands.

A moment later, Theodon also turned his stallion towards them and yelled, "Reform the line! Reform the line!" Riders lined up quickly, trusting their king's judgment. "Sound the charge!"

Gamling sounded the horn, stirring courage back into his men, before Theodon commanded firmly, "Rohirrim! Charge!"

Vezely knew this tactic would initially spill the blood of many of her brother in arms, for the mûmakil had been trained to sweep and stomp men and horses below them. General Saladan had also reinforced their tusks and ankles with crude wooden spikes and barbed ropes, furthering the range of their destruction. Yet their line needed to be broken and space put in between them in order to allow for the men to engage each individually with room to ride from harm's way. Gizik zigzagged, finding her and her rider through the danger zone before moving behind the great beast. Vezely reached into her saddle bag, her hand quickly grabbing one of the blasting powder spheres. She wacked it against her sword's hilt, cracking the glass vile of oil inside; following with another swipe of the flint to ignite the twine. Upon completing another pass underneath the grey beast, she hoisted it upward towards the attached tower, where it easily found a space to comfortably sit undetected by the Haradrim who were preoccupied raining arrows down on the Rohirrim below.

"Clear out!" she called high and clear, mentally counting down as she rode out, expecting the loud blast that soon shook the air around them and broke the hide of the beast it sat upon, tumbling it to the ground. She quickly moved along and provided others a shared fate.

While the mûmakil had been successfully scattered from their death march, individually they posed equal threat. The arrows shot from Rohan's bowmen were ineffective against their thick, impenetrable hides. Finding a spear ripe for plucking from the carcass of a dead orc, Vezely ran Gizik in the opposite direction before turning her to charge a mûmakil head on - the horse's speed providing her thrust extra momentum as she released the spear straight into the eye of the beast. A smirk cracked her serious demeanor, grateful her aim had not left her.

The chaos of the battle between mûmakil, Haradhrim, orcs, and Rohirrim, provided enough blindness to those engaged on the field that the Variags' approach would have gone unnoticed if not for Vezely's prior knowledge of their marching route. She continued to peer north to alert Eomer of when they were in range.

"Eomer, Variags to the north!" she cried, turning Eomer's attention.

"Eored!" Eomer called to his legion, "Rally to me!"

As the remaining eored rejoined Eomer, Vezely's eyes scanned the dual horse drawn chariots, which carried three archers each, followed by solo horsemen armed with axes; a formation known from strategy planning with her former second in command. Öldür was among them, she knew it.

The line of eored fiercely charged towards the line of golden chariots, many falling once in range of the arrows being shot from their riders. Following a clash of horse upon riderless horse, they were met by archers at close range, followed by the axes of equally experienced horseman. Paired by Eomer, Vezely and the horse lord worked together to empty a chariot of its three riders, before moving to the horsemen beyond, engaging in fierce combat upon saddle. The clang of axe upon steel sung in the air around them.

Suddenly Eomer's horse was hit by an arrow from a distant charioteer; the horse bucked below him before collapsing, causing him to fall off his steed and hit the ground hard below. In such a situation, to fall from one's horse would easily spell death from disadvantaged position. As he attempted to gain his bearings and rise to his feet, the same chariot was on a straight course towards him, the rider's axe in hand prepared to decapitate the horse lord before her.

"Eomer!" Vez yelled, kicking Gizik into high gear, causing her to race towards him. She swiftly maneuvered Gizik to the side of chariot's horses, preparing to deflect the rider's axe with her sword's steel, only to have him turn the axe on her horse. The blade hit the black steed's neck, instantly cutting her throat, stopping her legs in mid-gallop, and sending Vez over the horse's head to the ground before her. She rolled to alleviate the shock of impact, but her head still clanged against the inner steel of her helmet. While her vision momentarily blurred, a clear realization that such a dirty tactic was none other than her former second in command's entered her mind. She removed her helmet, dropping it to the ground below her, while her eyes momentarily glanced upon her trusted, four-legged companion in a bloodied lifeless mass nearby. Eomer had found his sword before being set upon by countless Variags, who had also gone horseless. Their former enemy, the berserker who took out both their horses, had rode off to inflict more damage to Rohan's riders. Vezely's angered desire to go after him would have to wait, for before her stood enough men to satisfy steel with blood.

Eomer and her worked together, taking the men around them out until a short reprieve allowed Vez to retrieve her saddle bag from Gizik, her mind disallowing any retreat into mourning for her lost friend. She was instead focused on the battle and the revenge she hoped it would quench. Sheathing her blood soaked sword, she made her way to an abandoned chariot, not too politely pulling an axe from the chest of a fallen Rohirrim along the way. She cut the two attached horses from the cart, jumping upon one barebacked; the axe still in her hand.

"I'm going after our horse killer," she said galloping near Eomer, eyes forward, her voice dark and determined. He was also preparing to jump upon another abandoned horse, hoping to regroup with more of his men.

He nodded before she quickly rode off; internally acknowledging that she saved his life back there, though he forewent any accolades.

She scanned the battlefield before her for the berserker, along the way releasing another of her blasting powder spheres onto the deck of an unsuspecting chariot. The axe she had found proved useful in loping the heads off of orcs and horseless Variags as she rode through the skirmish.

Vezely spotted the chariot; its rider, who wore a mask of black iron, was continuing his trade of cutting down men and horses. He spotted her eyes upon him from a distance and turned his chariot her way. Taking a chance upon his approach, she leapt down from the back of her steed and threw her axe sideways from a lunging position, providing it a low enough trajectory to ascend upon the chariot itself; its turning blade swiftly finding the vehicle's wheel, and splicing spoke from tire. The cart instantly flipped to the side, causing the two horses to crash upon each other and for the rider to tumble to the ground outside the cart. She arose from her lunge, unsheathing her sword with a look of evil amusement on her face, for she gave him the same treatment as he obliged her earlier.

Now horseless, Vezely was quickly ascended upon by nearby Variags, necessitating a swift reversal of her prior intentions. She desired their quick deaths in order to return to the berserker, who had regained his composure and was walking towards her, with a bloody axe in one hand and another attached to his back. Removing his helmet revealed his true identity - Öldür - Vezely's second in command, the one who betrayed her, and aided in her imprisonment in Dol Guldur. He appeared older than she remembered, and the prolonged life gifted from Sauron provided a reddish caste to his eyes and paling of his skin, making him appear slightly inhuman. He began laughing maniacally as he came closer to her, easily dispatching a few Rohirrim who attempted to engage him along the way.

Her eyes were fixed on his while she slit the throat of a Variag, pushing the man's life drained body from her own in one swift motion. "As usual, letting others fight me in your stead," she said to Öldür darkly in their common tongue, finding it odd to use after many months of speaking in Westron and Elvish.

Öldür knew she referred to when he had their army ascend upon her, bloodying her badly before taking her to Dol Guldur. "You would make challenge?" He said amused, his lips curling up on one side.

"I would have your life," she replied, pointing the blood stained tip of her sword towards him.

"And not my army?" he queried, one eyebrow raised, he then spat in disdain, "You have turned from such desires, dressed in Elvish armor, fighting alongside your former enemies."

Vezely's eyes narrowed, "But I yet fight," she replied, not amused by his attempt to rile her; getting back to business she said, "I make the challenge."

Nodding with feigned propriety, he said confidently, "Then let us truly honor the old ways." Right after discarding his bloody axe aside for the unused one on his back, he detached his outer shell of chest armor, letting it drop to the ground, for it was improper to wear protection in such a challenge.

Undeterred by what was possibly an attempt to gain advantage, she also detached her armor, removing her jacket along with it. "And in the end, you will be another mark upon my arm," she said with equally feigned respect.

He smirked before lunging at her, swinging his clean axe in close proximity, causing her to swoop backward, before retaliating with her sword. Another pass and sidestep, and Vez purposefully played with her sword work to slice his ear off.

Öldür touched the side of his head, finding blood dripping onto his hand. With a smirk across her face, Vez bowed her head slightly, "I would call us even, but we're not there yet," she remarked sarcastically, happy to return the favor he once bestowed upon her.

The offence, however, made him snap, for he suddenly felt toyed with, as he used to feel in her presence. He came at her with full force, his axe swinging madly. Vez deterred each swing with her sword, only to have one swift thrust cut through her blade's steel, severing through the script engraved on its midsection, and causing her and her blade's tip to fall on the ground below.

She quickly rolled to the side, missing Öldür's axe that barreled towards her, while pulling her sais from her boots just in time to catch his next attempt. Her blades were crossed over her chest, pushing against the strength of his axe now bearing down on her as she lay on the dead grasses below. His force took her by surprise, and as his blade drew closer her wrists began to ache from the bonds of captivity that once held her. The sharp edge slowly broke the skin below her collar bone. She felt the sting of cold metal sinking into her flesh and the release of warm, red liquid flow from her. So easily she could let his axe slip, she thought, ending her life right there. But a voice sung in her head, "Not your own," she heard Legolas's voice clearly, "Not your own," it rung again. Focusing her strength allowed her to quickly push up her crossed blades, momentarily allowing a safe enough distance from his axe for her to kick him in his groin, providing a reprieve to slide from under him. She swiped her one sais to cut the back of his leg, sending him to the ground on his knees. Yet before she could finish him, another Variag interfered, releasing his axe towards her. She turned to deflect it, using the hilt of her sais and then retaliated by throwing one sais into the man's chest.

During this time, Öldür returned to his feet, now finding his opponent with one less sais and presumably caught off-guard from his soldier's attack. Standing behind her, he swung his axe at her neck, but in one swift motion she ducked and plunged her sais into his stomach, slicing it upward and out, instantly sending the man to his knees, as his hands clutched his abdomen in attempt to contain his inners from falling out. She walked around him confidently, knowing she just provided an incredibly painful and fatal blow. Sheathing her sais back into her boot's holders, she found her broken blade on the ground, taking it by the handle while internally reading the blood stained script still left on this end of its blade, "Fear defeat in life;" she smirked amused at her soon to be won victory.

His eyes wavered on hers while blood dripped from the corner of his mouth; he knew he was finished. She looked at him emotionless before using her broken blade to slice his throat, sending his body into a heap in front of her. And as the blood drained from his body, she spoke her final words to him, "Now we are even."

At this time, she realized a clouded mass of formless men and horses were ascending throughout the fields around her, attacking all those who stood against Rohan. She looked far afield and saw the ghosts taking down the remaining mûmakil and their forms filtering into the gates of Minas Tirith. She assumed her three companions had succeeded in bringing the armies Elrond spoke of.

She discarded her broken blade to the ground, and instead picked up Öldür's axe, finding it a prized trophy to her kill; a custom of Easterlings to take from their dead what suited them. Her own blood stained its tip while the rest stood perfectly clean, making her wonder why he chose this instrument over the other axe he had been using.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and after swiping two fingers on the clean edge she found them coated in a clear substance. She slowly brought her fingers to her nose, instantly recognizing the smell. "Poison," the word escaped her lips, stalling her breath momentarily before her eyes scanned the fields around her, for she was perfectly conscious of its implications.


	20. Unwelcome Tidings

Thank you all for the kind reviews - I love reading your opinions and thoughts after I post these. And apologies for the cliffhanger - but as with LOTRs, there is still hope!

* * *

**Chapter 20 - Unwelcome Tidings**

With Öldür's tainted axe still in her hand, Vezely scanned the now quieted fields nearby, picking up the Variag's discarded weaponry from the ground, as well as pulling arrows from the bodies of dead Rohirrim. She was checking to see if her suspicion of all of them being laced with poison was correct.

It was called _Castis_, a poison she knew well, for when she was a general and her second in command was Öldür, she devised using it in war to further decimate enemies even after the battle was fought. Its name in the West was "Mercy Sleep," for its common medicinal purpose was to ease the passing of those fatally injured, allowing them to drift off into a peaceful slumber before assisting in shutting down their vital organs. Yet the darker purpose, and one Vezely counted on, was psychological. To have men return from war with mere scratches only to fall into a deep sleep followed by inexplicable death, could easily strike fear into enemies, especially if they held certain superstitions. She had used it in some minor assaults, having her men allow the other side reprieve in order for them to return home to their doomed fate. Afterwards, she would announce their deaths as punishment wrought by Sauron for their disobedience; attributing the Dark Lord a power he didn't have.

Fortunately, the effectiveness of the poison waned with each use of a soaked blade; the first slice into flesh providing the rush of poison needed to assault the victim and the closer to the heart, the quicker its effect. Upon discovering that all the Variag's blades and arrows were laced with it, she knew she needed to quickly inform the healers to prepare its antidote. There was one, and if applied prior to sleep taking hold, it would dissolve its effects; thus time was of the essence. Vezely ignored the now noticeable sting of the cut Öldür's axe put into her chest as she marched forward towards her companions, spotting them in council with the dead armies who stood before the gate of the towering White City. She watched as the ghostly forms disappeared, trying to keep her legs still moving below her despite a sudden heaviness taking hold.

Legolas turned to see her far afield, appearing alive, though bathed in blood, and walking with an axe in one hand. He presumed she was successful in her endeavor against her former second in command, for she mentioned in council with King Theodon that the Variags were axe wielders. Her eyes could see his smile, and he decided to move towards her, as she kept pace towards him. Yet the heaviness in her chest was spreading to her hands and feet. The axe slowly slipped from her grip, and she stumbled in mid step; her feet could no longer feel the ground beneath them. She tumbled on her knees and elbows causing Legolas's face to go blank and his heart to stop.

As he raced towards her side, he found her attempting to pick herself back up. "I am not done," she yelled at herself angrily through gritted teeth, the minimal strength in her hands grasping at the dead grasses in a determined attempt to stand. But the ground felt as if it was pulling her like a magnet - the poison was taking over. "I can still fight...I have not done enough," she said pathetically during her failed attempts. The fear that she would not be allowed to continue her path to redemption overtook her thoughts.

Legolas fell on his knees beside her, turning her towards him, his one arm bracing her back and steadying her. His eyes searched in confusion as to her injuries. He brought his other hand near the cut in her chest, wondering whether it went deeper than it appeared or if there was another injury unseen.

"Poison," she answered his voiceless query along with releasing her breath, "It is Castis, Mercy Death, the Variags' weapons are soaked in it." Her eyes wandered from his as she said angrily, "It was my strategy, he used my evil against me;" a second heavy breath turned her anger into a look of dejection at sharing another base sin of her past.

"It should not affect you," Legolas said hastily, holding onto emotional strength amidst his fear, and trying to turn her focus back to him. He knew elves could not die from the tonics of men for their bodies would reject them.

Her eyes wavered, not knowing why it was affecting her, yet she needed to fight the urge to sleep in order to try and save other's lives, "There is still time for the others. For men with scratches or wounds farther from the heart, before they slumber. There is an antidote known in Rhun, of Florexian mixed with oil of Veron root..."

Gandalf, along with Aragorn and Gimli had also approached the area. Upon hearing this, Gandalf immediately commanded a man of Gondor to ride quickly and inform the House of Healing to prepare the antidote.

"...There is no time for me," she said looking upon him sorrowfully.

He shook his head, telling her strongly, "You will wake, you will heal," he would not believe this could defeat her; he wanted to trust that the Valar would protect her, that they would disallow the poison to take her life.

"If I do not," she said quietly to him in Elvish, though weak she lifted her hand towards his face but found it covered in blood; stopping her from touching him. Her dark past consumed her thoughts, causing her eyes to fill with water, "It is as it should be for what I have done."

He took her wavering hand in his own and pressed it against his heart, telling her sternly, "You are not beyond redemption, nor unworthy of my love. Please believe this," his eyes reflected hers as tears also started to form.

Her lips formed a small smile and a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye, "All I know is I lived more in my short time with you than all my centuries before."

He pulled her body closer to his own, kissing her foreword and speaking to her softly words of love and encouragement, "Do not give up on this life, Vezely, you are not done," for he knew she had thought her future hopeless in the weight of her past.

"Nor are you," she said determined even if just a whisper, fearful that he would despair, "Keep. Fighting."

As she slowly drifted to sleep, she heard him speak words of prayer to the Valar to protect and heal her. With his eyes yet clouded over, he picked up the once proud warrior in his arms, her head resting on his chest; cradling her as one would a child. With trepidation, he looked at Gandalf for words of wisdom, but unfortunately they did not come with comfort, "I cannot promise that she'll wake from this slumber. Sauron yet has a hold on her ability to heal herself;" a subtle explanation for the scars that remained on her wrists and the fact that her ear tip had not reformed itself.

Gimli and Aragorn displayed their condolences silently as Legolas carried Vezely passed them, each bowing their heads in respect for their companion and the uncertain fate of the warrior he held. Borrowing a disbanded horse near the gate, he would take her to the sixth circle, to the Houses of Healing - Minas Tirith's infirmary which was already filled with the wounded, as many more were being carted in.

An old healer met him at the door immediately, her tired eyes trying to assess where the one he held should be placed. Due the enormity of the tasks set ahead of them, the healers were trying to be as methodical as possible when placing the wounded - figuring out who they could save and who they could not.

"She is poisoned," Legolas explained, "By what is called Mercy Death."

The old woman's eyes showed what was now a pressing concern, having been informed just prior of this development, "I see. Come," she began walking, speaking as he followed her, "I am not aware of its effect on your kind, but if she is asleep, for us mortals there is nothing we can do. The antidote can be applied to her wound but it will only prolong the inevitable."

"I would appreciate that being done," Legolas said determined behind her, "To give her more time to heal."

The healer stopped and looked upon the elf's face; she could see in his eyes a great amount of dread. She nodded curtly, saying assuredly, "We will do so, you can place her here," leading him to an empty cot in a row of badly wounded men; most appeared as if they may never rise from them again. Legolas gently placed Vezely onto the cot, hating the thought and feeling of separating her from his arms. He gently adjusted her arms and legs, hoping to make her comfortable though he knew she was not conscious of her physical surroundings.

Before leaving, the old healer looked inquisitively upon the woman he so lovingly handled. She appeared young, and if not for being an elf she would assume she had not yet past three decades of life. But more so she was peculiar; wearing men's trousers and leather corset, with hair shorn short and eyes lined in black. Like the men dying around her, she was covered in blood, but the majority of it was not her own. Stranger still were the black marking drawn on her arms and shoulders. In all her years of aiding Gondor's wounded, she had never come across such a sight in one of her cots. Returning her gaze to him, she said with unease on the added predicament some soldiers found themselves in, "What sort of _monster _would use such a poison on a battlefield is beyond comprehension. I will return soon with the antidote."

Her words caused Legolas to uncomfortably swallow what spit he had in his mouth as he looked upon the peaceful face of the one he loved. _Monster_, the word echoed in his head. He took her blood stained hand in his own, speaking to her softly in Elvish. "That is not you, Vezely. You are not defined by your past. Let your future define you."

The old healer returned and addressed her wound, as Legolas helped cleanse her hands and face of some of the blood that stained them. He knew there was little more he could do for her right now as she slept with the uncertainty of ever waking. He unclasped the leaf broach from his collar and removed his Elven cloak from his shoulders, placing the warm grey fabric on top of her as a protective blanket. He desired to idle by her side, watch over her as she slept, but knew he should help attend the wounded as they arrived, to lend any support he could. And thus he painfully left her side, returning periodically to check her breathing and temperature, fearing each time that he would find them changed.

Eowyn would be brought in shortly after, much to the surprise of all who knew her, for none had expected the white lady of Edoras to be lying on the battlefield. Especially not her brother Eomer, who found her unconscious nearby his uncle who had died, crushed under the weight of his horse. Physically it appeared that only her arm was badly broken, but the greater concern was the discovery that she had contracted the Black Shadow of the Nazgul, which, not unlike the poison Vezely's body was currently battling, also caused its victims to fall into a dark sleep they could never return from. Merry, discovered much later by Pippin in his unwavering search for his friend, was also brought in under a similar predicament. The two had brought down the king of the Nazgul, with Eowyn fulfilling the prophecy that while no man could kill him, a woman could.

Finding herself overwhelmed with ailments, a skilled healer by the name of Ioreth, wished aloud for a king, stating that "The hand of the king are the hands of a healer." Attuned to this saying, Gandalf persuaded Aragorn to also tend the wounded. He would revive Faramir, Eowyn, and Merry with the use of _athelas_, a plant with healing powers that increased when applied by the hands of a king. Yet there was little Aragorn could do against the man-made poison already set upon destroying Vezely and many others who battled the Variags. Fortunately, the antidote was easily produced and quickly applied to all with suspicions of being cut with a Variag blade or hit by a Variag arrow; Eomer included.

The new king of Rohan had a small reprieve from his nearly broken heart when his sister was revived from her dark sleep by Aragorn, though he would mourn the death of his uncle and of his many men that fell. While Eowyn was being moved to her own room to recover, he would pass the line of cots of men who were either victims of the poison or of wounds too great to heal, finding Vezely amongst them. He stopped before her feet, staring sternly at her calm face while internally processing some truisms in his mind: he knew she aided his sister's objective of fighting in this war, which nearly took her life; while at the same time, she saved his own life on the battlefield. The former he would not easily forgive but for the latter. Legolas, who had been checking in on her throughout the day, came and stood aside him, querying the man's thoughts.

Keeping his eyes foreword, Eomer spoke steadily, "She saved my life and lost her horse in the act," these words were difficult to voice, for he had not seen eye-to-eye with the woman in the near past. Legolas had not known whether Gizik had fallen on the battlefield, though assumed as much when Vezely showed up without her. Turning to Legolas, who Eomer now knew the woman truly held meaning to, he said sincerely, "I hope she rises again so I can thank her for such assistance." He then briefly placed a hand on the elf's shoulder, giving him a small nod of condolence before leaving to tend Rohan's wounded; desiring to lend them morale in their time of pain.

Legolas kneeled beside her, checking her temperature and gauging her breathing as he did each time he check on her, finding it had remained steady since she first fell asleep. It gave him minor hope that she might pull through and fight off the poison attacking her inside. He would continue this routine during the night and early into the morning, as he assisted Aragorn with healing others. Each time he would find more cots around her emptied, as more and more men had found death and were moved to another location.

That morning Gimli would stop by; saddened to see the once spirited Easterling elf appear lifeless before him, and even more so to see his elf friend in grief. He found him seated by her side with his eyes closed while clasping her hand aside his cheek.

"Come lad," Gimli said carefully, for they had been called by Aragorn to council on their next move against Sauron's forces. Legolas did not shift his position immediately, nor open his eyes. Hoping to add some levity to the situation, Gimli added, "She would scold you for lingering too long as such."

A small smile lit Legolas's face, knowing what Gimli said was true of her character. "That she would," he replied, kissing the back of her hand before placing it back down by her side and tucking it under his Elven cloak.

...Standing with arms crossed aside Eomer, Legolas felt slightly removed from the discussion as he felt detached during the night while attending the wounded. Emotionally, his heart was on the verge of breaking - the added uncertainties of the war here and in his homeland, and now of Vezely's fate, did much to dampen his once steadfast resolve. Yet he tried his best to remain present, contemplating as others the worth of Aragorn's suggestion to divert Sauron's attention. The revelation that Frodo and Sam had made it passed the gates of Mordor offered some hope, for the destruction of the One Ring was truly the only way to rid Middle Earth of Shadow. All knew forging an attack on the Black Gates of Mordor was a suicide mission; for the remaining forces of both Gondor and Rohan, even if they could gather those with minor wounds, were not enough to defeat over ten thousands orcs that were said to be stationed within. Diversion-produced time would be their only weapon.

The majority of the afternoon was spent discussing the assault and assessing their numbers, thus Legolas would not return to check on Vezely until later in the afternoon. But he would return to the row of forsaken cots to find her not among them. His heart dropped, fearing the worst had happened.

"She was moved," the old healer who had assisted him the day prior spoke as she walked briskly towards him, "To the upper level, by request of Lady Eowyn." She was taking some clean linens to another room and thus stopped only briefly before him, saying encouragingly, "If may be of comfort to know, she has outlasted others who fell to similar malady."

Legolas did not know whether it meant she would recover, or if her body simply slowed down the poison's effect. Whether he should hope that she would awake while he was away fighting at the Black Gates or fear she would slip while he was gone, ran through his mind as he ascended the stairs. The warden directed him to a small room, where he would find that her body had been bathed and clothes replaced with a cream charmeuse dress. No longer was she in an uncomfortable cot; instead, she rested in a four post bed, with fresh white linens and her head upon an equally soft pillow. Without blood and dirt covering her, she appeared as if she was simply napping away an afternoon. Legolas's mind wandered to thoughts of finding her such in a future life together. Of going to sit by her side and watching her eyes open to his, or laying next to her and also napping the day away. He closed his eyes as such thoughts momentarily brought his troubled mind comfort before regretfully reopening them to reality. He went to check on her temperature, finding it colder than before and her breathing slower. His Elven cloak was draped on the back of a chair nearby, and he again placed it upon her, underneath the two layers of bed linens she laid under; hoping it would again provide her warmth and protection. It was then that he noticed she was missing her rings, including the one that held special meaning to her - the leadership ring of her clan. He left to find out where they had placed them, asking a healer who happened to walk by with heightened concern. The young woman, a bit surprised by the elf's abruptness and not knowing the answer, quickly scurried off to find out.

"Apologies," an older woman came to him a few minutes later with a small purple velvet pouch in her hand, with the young healer he verbally assaulted trailing behind her. "We removed them to have them washed of the blood and dirt they held, along with the jewelry lining her ears. Her clothes were not salvageable and her weapons are in another room, for there is no need for them in a place of healing."

Legolas nodded politely while accepting the pouch the woman provided him, "Gratitude for the kindness you have provided her."

The older woman then looked upon him questionably, "Are you her next of kin?"

Not expecting this question, he said, "We are not related by blood."

"Apologies, she is your wife," she replied quickly, sorry for her mistake.

"She is not," he replied with some sadness while looking upon Vezely, mired with thoughts of such plans never coming to fruition, adding, "Though I would make her so."

The old woman realized the elf's manner of sorrow was truly one of the heart, thus she tread carefully with her words and spoke softly, "We have heard soldiers are being gathered to leave for Mordor by tomorrow's dawn and presumably you will leave with them. Thus we must ask, if she is to pass while you are away, what are the proper burial procedures for your kind?"

Legolas closed his eyes momentarily, for to be asked such a question held a heavy burden as he realized he had not known Vezely well enough to have spoken to her about desired treatment after death. He only knew that Easterlings cremated their bodies and that perhaps she would want the same. Thus, he requested it be done, but for her ashes to be given to him upon his hopeful return. Although he did not voice his reason to the healers, internally he thought he would take her remains home with him, and bury them by the Forest River amongst his other fallen kin.

As the old woman and the young healer left, gratified to have received this necessary information, Legolas sat unsettled by Vezely's side, hoping he had not done her a great disservice by posing such delicate plans; despite the fact he knew quite well she held to no superstitions in these matters and often showed disdain for those that did. He touched her forehead again to feel her temperature, finding it slightly warmer than before he replaced the Elven cloak upon her. Breathing in a deep breath and finding relief in its release, he turned his attention to the velvet pouch in his hand. He searched and found the ring in question, looking upon the crude, geometrically carved image of a sun on its front, before slipping it on her finger. He held her hand, speaking to her softly, "Pull from all sources of your strength, keep fighting and I will do the same."

The afternoon turned to evening, and Legolas would leave her side to join his companions for dinner, telling them she was holding on, not mentioning that his own heart was doing the same. He would also discover Aragorn with similar worries of Arwen, as the Palantir had shown him troubling images of her death; not taken lightly following Lord Elrond's mention of her fate being tied to the Ring.

"We must set our mind to task," Aragorn said in confidence to his elf companion, before he would depart, fearing his emotional resolve, "I would have you by my side in front of the Black Gates, as a brother."

Legolas put a hand on his shoulder, determined to not let his companion down, "And I will be there as one."

He would spend the night standing by Vezely's bedside, guarding over her as if he was on night watch in the Woodland guard. The open window in the room provided a view of the night sky and the stars that sat in it, and he reminisced back to their first personal conversation together, where she asked him whether the stars ever lost their light. He wondered again if such an unfathomable event could happen, thinking in regards to her own light which had diminished so much in her lifetime. As the sun began to rise, these thoughts were replaced with one heavier - that he soon needed to leave her side and march with the others on the Black Gate.

He sat by her, trailing his hand from her forehead to the side of her cheek, and mournfully finding her temperature slightly cooler. "Don't stop fighting." he whispered to her. He would say another prayer to the Valar before kissing her forehead softly, leaving the room slightly after.

Having just said farewell to her brother, Eowyn, who was still relegated to bed rest, desired to watch the armies leave from the sixth level's terrace garden. She would come across Legolas leaving Vezely's room, and despite standing only a few meters from him he did not acknowledge her at first, for internally he was steadying his emotions. She smiled kindly at him, knowing his worries as she also held them for her friend. "I will watch over her while you are gone," she said softly, turning his attention and engaging his weary eyes.

He nodded to her, replying before turning to leave down the stairs, "It would be most appreciated."

Hoping to encourage him on what would be an unforgiving march to Mordor, Eowyn called after him, "She is strong, I do not believe she will let this defeat her," causing Legolas to stop in mid-step and acknowledge he held common belief. Eowyn admitted again feeling somewhat useless being left behind. Despite her injuries she still desired to fight alongside the others. Passing by Vezely's door, she wondered if her female companion in arms still stood, would she have helped persuade her brother and Aragorn to let her fight again? She didn't doubt it. With dampened spirits, Eowyn would stand on the terrace and wait for the line of soldiers to depart from the gates far below; the chill of the morning air did nothing but worsen her mood.

After Legolas regrouped with the others, he reminded himself that he was also strong, charged as a warrior at home and in the fellowship. Leaving the city upon horseback with Gimli seated behind him, Aragorn cloaked in Gondorian robes riding just in front him, Gandalf upon Shadowfax nearby, and the two hobbits perched upon the horses of others, he was prepared to face whatever end beside them. This was his oath. For the sake of the fellowship, for his people, for Middle Earth, and now for the one he loved, he would keep fighting.

* * *

Vezely found herself standing momentarily immobile in a wet landscape that looked like reflective glass, with crystal clear waters stretched on infinitely, mirroring the sunlit purple and pink clouded sky above. Where the horizon began and ended lay uncertain in her mind but for a muted, but perceptible shoreline in the south. Her boots were submerged up to the ankles; the warmth of the waters just became perceptible. A second later the water beneath her flowed forward and rushed backwards as she realized she yet drew breath; she began breathing along with the tide.

She remained dressed in her battle clothes though sans the sais she knew she once held on the sides of her boots. He hands remained stained in the blood of men and orcs, prompting her to kneel down and try to cleanse them in the warm water below, but somehow she could not get them parsed of color.

Once before she found herself here, when she was the edge of death nearly five centuries ago; after falling in an ambush against the Woodland guard in Northern Mirkwood. The realization that poison on Öldür's axe brought her back, stirred anger in her heart. Again her past deeds had resurfaced, and presumably caused more deaths on the Fields of Pelennor, while she fell to her own evil schemes. "Ironic justice," she spoke sardonically in Easterling to herself, though along with her anger, she feared never returning and never seeing the one she loved.

Her eyes roamed her surroundings again, and while doing so she noticed its utter silence; even the water's movement against the shore did not make a sound. Such quiet reminded her of her time in the deserts of Rhun, but even then the sand would produce sound as the wind carried it along.

The movement of the water rushing forward below her, prompted her to start walking towards the shoreline; the features of which were muted from her eyesight. She shuffled her boots through the wet sands as the tide continued to rush back and forth. But when she reached within a few meters of the shoreline, she stopped, fearful of what going ashore could mean. She was not ready to leave her life behind, not when she had found her path. But the shore still remained unfocused before her, and she wondered whether a slightly closer view would dissolve this filter from her eyes. Yet when attempting to take one more step, her boots felt stuck in the sands below her. So she closed her eyes, adding darkness to the silence in order to make it less unsettling.


	21. An Elvish Existence

Thank you all my followers and reviewers! Let's keep going!

* * *

**Chapter 21 - An Elvish Existence**

Vezely could not gather how much time had passed since she awoke in this silent, mirror-like landscape. Her feet were still firmly planted in wet sands just meters from a blurred out shoreline. The quiet continued to unnerve her, for it left her to her own troubling thoughts. She assumed she was on the edge of life, in a state of limbo, in doubt whether she would recover from the poison Öldür's axe infected her with; if she would heal as Elves are suppose to and as Legolas firmly told her she would after she fell. It was only from her past experience that she suspected what state she was in; for she awoke in a similar landscape when she healed from her wounds under the care of King Thranduil. Yet for all she knew she could have perished and now awaited some other peril. Though these thoughts over her condition were overrun with torment at the grief she might be causing Legolas. With the ongoing war, knowing that Sauron's armies were not yet defeated or the One Ring destroyed, and with his homeland under attack, the last burden he needed was her unstable condition or death. She had this fear and apprehension the first moment she considered opening her heart to him; a fear of bringing pain to the one who loved her. She hoped for his resolve; that he would keep fighting. She needed to believe he would go on without her. She needed to believe he would not despair if she were to die and find herself barred from entering the lands of their people; barred from ever being his arms again.

As she turned her gaze towards the horizon, a blinding flash illuminated the sky and the water perfectly mirrored its reflection below. It traveled like a wave of air that brought back to life the sound the landscape had long been without. Suddenly Vezely could hear the waves crashing on the shoreline and the sound of wind rustling the foliage on the land beyond. Looking towards the shore again, she witnessed two tall figures emerge, though they remained muted against the backdrop.

"Who are you?" she asked firmly in Westron, pretending to be unalarmed by their appearance, though inside she was uneasy; engagement with others never occurred the last time she found herself in this landscape.

No answer came, however, and she again tried to walk closer to them, suddenly finding herself able to do so. But she feared going on land, wondering what it could mean for the life she still desired to go back to. "I will not go ashore," she called out defiantly, deciding to stay where she stopped.

"That is amongst the choices you must make," the man said to her in Elvish.

"Who are you?" she inquired back in the same tongue. Her eyes narrowed and focus came to the figures before her. She found a tall elf cloaked in champagne colored robes, with long hair the color of her own and a female elf of similar stature, cloaked in robes of a lighter shade; her hair the color of autumn leaves and freckles bridging her nose and cheeks.

Suddenly, as if the previous flash in the sky resounded through her mind, she realized she looked upon the faces of her blood parents. Memories crept from the darkened voids, flooding her with thoughts of their home under the trees in Northern Mirkwood forest, of her mother soft voice singing to her aside the Forest River, of sitting on her father's knee as he told her stories of their kin. All comforting memories she could suddenly walk through; reliving the warmth of six years of an Elvish childhood bathed in the love of one's true parents. But the joy also came with bitter recollection of witnessing their deaths at the hands of orcs - the sound of her mother screaming after the fall of her father, only to be silenced shortly after, as she was carried away in the unforgiving arms of their murderers.

With this memory, water welled in her eyes as she looked upon the two now blurred by her emotions. "I remember," she said quietly beside herself. As she attempted to refocus, she grew uncertain how to engage in conversation with them, for they were yet estranged figures in her past, and far removed from her life in Rhun and the person she became.

"Our child," her mother said to her kindly, "Taken from our arms too soon. We are so sorry we could not protect you from your fate."

"My fate?" She replied wearily, in the midst of still trying to reorient her memories, "I do not blame you for my fate; or others for the path I took before returning me to these unwelcomed shores," then asking somewhat unsure, "I am assuming you know of what became of me."

"We know," her mother said calmly with eyes full of care and concern.

"We also know you blame yourself," her father added astutely.

"Am I to blame Sauron?" she queried skeptically but with concern, "For your deaths, yes, but for me, he only provided a gateway to the violence I readily dealt. My hands are yet stained by deeds that should not be forgiven," she said holding her hands, still red from the battle she fought, toward them.

"You have started on a path of redemption, but one you have yet to finish. You know this," he said steadily, adding solemnly, "That is why you are not permitted to wander these shores freely."

She took a deep breath, for this was the information she most feared, to be barred from the Undying Lands because her sins were too great. "It is as I assumed," she replied keeping her composure, though not able to look them in the eyes.

"Yet another choice remains, one only provided to the Half-Elven, as you are my blood, of the line Beren and Luthien. The gift of man provides you direct passage into the lands of those who raised you, where you would not be ashamed of your past..." this choice caused Vezely to remember her Balchoth parents, whose love was just as true as the blood parents who stood before her. She longed to see them again, for they understood her drive and emotions. Her culture was their culture. As a brutal warrior who had fought and killed many, she would honored amongst them, respected.

"Or," he continued, turning her attention back to him, for the time allotted to speak to her was limited, "You can be counted amongst the Eldar and return to the path set upon. Though whether these shores will welcome you in the future remains uncertain. You will not be given this choice again, so choose wisely."

Vezely searched her father's face; his true concern was deeply moving. She looked downward momentarily, noting the choice before her was not as difficult as she assumed it would be, though it would leave her future still doubtful. A deep breath later, she said with hope while searching the compassion in her parent's eyes, "I desire to continue on my path, for I must try to redeem myself so that one day I am not ashamed to stand amongst my kin."

They smiled endearingly at her, both internally grateful they would someday have the opportunity to be reunited with their lost daughter. Her father said to her encouragingly, "We will meet again then," for he acknowledged she held determination in this task.

She returned their smiles, "I hope so," she said sincerely grateful for the memories she know held and the second chance soon to be given.

Before all went dark, her mother said softly to her, "Hope can always be found in your heart, _your heart will call you home and there you will stay and weep no more for Autumn's end_," recalling the last verse she was missing from the Forest River song; the verse Legolas shared with her at Edoras.

* * *

Vezely's eyes slowly opened to a high white stone ceiling above, in a room lit with sunlight from an open window. The brightness caused her to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted. She breathed in slightly cool air, noticing the dampness that often lingers from mid-morning's transition to noon. Despite lying atop an overstuffed mattress and being covered in thick blankets, a comfort which she was not accustomed to, her body ached and her hands and feet felt numb. She closed her hands into a fist and then released and outstretched her fingers, repeating this over and over again in order to get her blood to flow back into them. She then brought her hand to her chest, finding linen wrapped around it, and that stitches had been given to the cut the axe inflicted. It was then that she realized on top of her was Legolas's grey Elven cloak, gifted to him and other members of the fellowship prior to leaving Lothlorien. She gathered the top of it in her hands and brought it towards her face, gently pressing it aside her cheek, feeling its softness before breathing in its scent, for though faint, his yet lingered. She closed her eyes, realizing that her second chance at life, to redeem the light she lost, had truly begun; but the one she most wanted to see was nowhere to be found.

Her ears then heard the sounds of footsteps pattering against tile and stone and an older woman in a grey headscarf entered her room, surprised to be met with her patient's open eyes.

"You are awake," she said surprised.

"Water," was all Vezely could manage to reply from her dry throat, the request quickly met with a filled cup and a helping hand to get her to sit upright.

"We were not hopeful for your recovery," the woman spoke to her as she drank, "For you continued to grow cold and your breathing troubled until yesterday, when Mordor fell."

Vezely stopped mid-drink, her eyes widened, "Mordor has fallen?"

"We witnessed the destruction of Mount Doom, the clearing of the red skies over Mordor. We are assured Lord Aragorn was victorious, though they have yet to return."

"They marched on the Black Gates?" Vezely remarked concerned, her eyes wandering in thought on the insanity of such a strategy, considering their numbers.

"Vez?" a familiar voice called from the doorway; Eowyn rushed in and came to Vezely's bedside, sitting next to her and taking her one hand after the old healer took the cup from it, leaving the two to their reunion.

"You survived? I am so thankful," Vezely replied, incredibly relieved to see her female friend in arms appearing in good health and spirits. "You must tell me everything."

And so Eowyn told her of the battle and its aftermath, those who fell, her uncle amongst them, and those who went on to attack Mordor and their presumed victory; the details of such yet unknown to all in Minas Tirith, as they awaited hopeful return of their new king.

"...He did not leave your side," Eowyn remarked endearingly, noting that Vezely had not unclenched his cloak from her other hand.

Vezely smiled slightly embarrassed at this information, before the guilt of causing him such ill-timed grief overtook her demeanor. "And now I fear he may not return to it."

"We can only hope all will return unscathed," Eowyn said encouragingly, squeezing her hand to add reassurance.

"And of your battle scars?" Vezely asked, noting Eowyn's arm was wrapped in linen.

As Eowyn told her the tale of the foul beast and fight against the witch-king of Angmar, Vezely's heart stirred in pride for her friend, who she knew had an important role to play in this war. "You are as Vezena for your people," Vez said to her endearingly, referring to the story of her namesake, the great woman warrior of Rhun, "May young girls find courage in the story of the shield maiden who took down an enemy no man could kill..."

The old healer returned with a bowl of porridge on a tray, "Apologies Lady Eowyn," she said coming to the other side of the bed, "But Lady Vez should try to eat and then continue to rest, for she has been without nourishment for a week."

Vez smirked slightly at being referred to as _Lady Vez_, but refrained from making a characteristic comment. Eowyn looked upon her friend grateful again for her renewed life before acquiescing to the healer's request, saying optimistically, "We will speak again soon."

In the next few days, Vezely would slowly build up her strength, enough to leave the confines of her room; the walls of which felt as if they were bearing down on her like in the dungeons of Dol Guldur. She went to wander the terrace gardens in the afternoon, finding the sun inviting and open scenery refreshing. Eowyn was kind enough to assist in negotiations with the healers to allow her to wear an alternative garment to the cream chartreuse gown she was sleeping in, since her clothes had been discarded both by them and herself on the battlefield when she removed her tunic and Elvish armor prior to fighting Öldür. They provided her a simple draped gown consisting of three muted shades of grey, common of Gondorian women's style. Although warm and soft, the excess length in its fabric especially in its long bell sleeves, made her less than content. Though when requesting men's breeches and a tunic, they were less willing to budge on their dress code and she would have to wait until released from the infirmary to find suitable clothes for her non-conventional lifestyle. The thought of riding in such an outfit with the sleeves alone, confounded her.

The terrace's ledge provided her an unobstructed view of the remnants of Mount Doom, their fires smoldering from a mountain top that appeared to have caved in on itself. She could no longer see the Tower of Barad-dûr near its peak or feel the unnerving presence of the Eye of the one who she used to serve. Somehow seeing it in ruins, even from afar, made Sauron's defeat tangible. She regretted not being there at the Black Gate to witness such a profound moment in Middle Earth's history; in her own history. Moving slightly closer to the edge, she peered downward at the fields below, noting the slight knot in her stomach at she did. Instead of thinking of the battle just fought there, a newfound memory from her Elvish childhood entered her mind, startling her slightly.

"Long have the fires of Mordor been on my horizon," a gentlemanly voice suddenly came beside her, breaking her from these thoughts, "Such a sight today is one that will take time to get accustomed to." Faramir was also in the gardens that afternoon, hoping to soon be discharged from the infirmary as his wounds were healing well enough.

Vezely turned to see the kind-looking man, knowing nothing of his rank or relations, she replied steadily, "As it will for me, though not for a change in scenery."

"You are Lady Eowyn's friend?" he queried politely.

"That I am. And I can assume you are as well?" Vezely inquired back with an eyebrow raised.

"I hope so," he said with a small smile, and a perceptible blush Vezely picked up on, "My name is Faramir," he bowed slightly in greeting.

Knowing of Gondor's steward's, as information on leaders is known to all who would wage war, she added, "Son of the Steward?"

"Though no longer," he said with a hint of mourning for the passing of his father.

Unaware of this, Vezely nodded in condolence before introduction, "My name is Vez, I am of Rhun, but I was born in the Woodland Realm." She used the shortened version of her name that the men of Rohan called her.

"Eowyn has told me of you," he replied back, "As she feared the poison would take your life as it has so many others."

Discontent to hear of Eowyn's added grief and of the poison's death toll, Vezely asked, "Is it known the number of causalities the poison laid claim to?"

"Such numbers would be impossible to estimate," Faramir replied considering, and then saying gratefully, "Though if not for your quick acknowledgement of its use and mixture of antidote, undoubtedly it would have taken many more."

"I deserve no praise," Vezely added quickly at the misplaced accolades, for she could not help but feel partially responsible for the poison's use to begin with; having been the one who devised the dark strategy alongside Öldür nearly a century ago. She suspected his intentions to employ it here stemmed from their grudge; and that he purposefully saved his unused, tainted axe for her on the battlefield.

"Elves are often humble," Faramir replied, appearing to admire the trait.

Vezely scoffed imperceptibly at the first time being deemed so, noting how it was unfortunately misplaced; for it was guilt and not humility that she desired any praise to be quickly quieted. She let the comment slide though, finding her gaze taken in by the expanses around her, "Your city offers quite a view, Faramir, from both outside and inside its gates."

"That it does. I hope you are provided with others," he added courteously, and then saying with a hint of annoyance, "Preferably from outside this infirmary."

She smirked, noting his desire of leaving these grounds mirrored her own, "In due time, for I have only just been allowed this small venture from my room."

"The healers are as wardens," he said with levity, for the Houses of Healing were notorious for being run overly efficient, and their patients being meticulously cared for that it could feel as a prison for those on the mend within it walls. "Even I must be bid able to take my leave." Vez chuckled at his good-humored nature; he seemed to be a man of noble character and heart, but one not hardened by the events surrounding him. "Which reminds me of my appointment," he added a second later, "I must clear a final test before I am set free of bond. I am sure we will meet again, Lady Vez."

"Undoubtedly we will," she said with a smile then adding civilly, "And call me Vez, I stand no lady."

"Appearances then are most deceiving," he said with a smile before bowing slightly and walking away, exuding a courteousness of character she was yet unaccustomed to.

"Dresses," Vez mumbled to herself after he took his leave, reminding her at how ill-suited such garments were for her character; though it was also the strangeness of being titled so. It has happened on more than one occasion since coming West. In Rhun, such a title was easily acknowledged a misnomer; even when stripped of her rank as general, for one to call her lady could only have been done in jest. She simply did not exude the presence of a lady, as Eowyn did for example. She gathered that perhaps in the West, they were simply more willing to uphold such manners; or perhaps men were simply less discerning when being chivalrous. Faramir was raised that way no doubt, she thought; her mind then shifted to Legolas, who also upheld a politeness suitable for one of his ilk.

A smile stretched across her face as she thought endearingly about the dignified points of his character: his impeccable manners, even during their previous quarrels they would shine through in his apologies; his optimism which stood in bright contrast to her own pessimistic attitude, with an ability to open her mind to grander possibilities; and his politeness in touch. Though she undoubtedly desired to move beyond innocent kiss and embrace, he seemed to uphold a respect for her body as other men would not. She noted this in their previous intimate moments, and while at first she thought perhaps it was inexperience that held him back, she realized instead his intentions were noble. He wanted to protect the sanctity of their courtship, and not mire it by quick desires of the flesh until their union was official. Vezely knew not what exactly this entailed in the West or for elves; for in Rhun, the ritual of settling a union between a man and woman was as diverse as the landscape itself.

That this may require a ceremony reminded her of his rank as prince of Mirkwood, since it was a title easily forgotten in their travels together. She had noted that he first and foremost presented himself as an equal member of the fellowship; a warrior of great worth, but not one holding overt special status or privilege. He wore no symbols of hierarchy, nor made any assertion about his importance. Though certainly he was of importance, as King Thranduil's only son, and now as the only Elvish member of the fellowship he stood representative of all Elvendom in this great war. Even so, he remained humble; reminding her again of the misplaced words Faramir spoke of her.

She knew not how she garnered his love; for their story was one which began with hate, ongoing distrust, and unease over their cultural and character differences. They stood as opposites in so many ways, yet the attraction they had to each other was undeniable; despite both of their attempts to reject it. It suddenly seemed ages ago since they stood on the terrace of the Golden Hall, overlooking the starlit expanses of Rohan, reflecting on their life and subtly asking the other questions to gauge their feelings. That their initial curiosity turned into such a strong bond, confounded her. She needed to believe he survived the march on the Black Gates; that she would be able to stand in his light again before leaving to regain her own. He was her source, her reassurance, her path to a life she desired. _He will return_, she told herself, trying to believe it.

"Lady Vez," a young healer called to her; another instance of her thoughts being interrupted, "You have had enough sunlight today. You should rest."

Vez rolled her eyes slightly before turning towards the nurse with feigned pleasantries to comply with her request. She knew not when the armies would return to Minas Tirith, but it could not be soon enough. While she was far from fully recovered, the uncertainty of her companions fate loomed over her as dark clouds before a rain storm, and even more so when she was in her room resting. She wondered if the healers knew that elves did not sleep, and while she attempted to clear her mind of all thoughts in order to rest, it was becoming more difficult each passing day.

* * *

The implosion of the Eye of Sauron and the earth shattering collapse of the Dark Tower of Barad-dûr, came unexpectedly, and at a moment of intense trepidation as Legolas attempted to fight his way through a mass of orcs towards Aragorn in order to divert his death from the sword of a cave troll. During the tower's destruction, the six remaining members of the fellowship all recognized the deed that must have been completed by the two hobbits beyond the Black Gates. Their hearts stirred in pride of their companions' accomplishment, of the salvation they had brought not only to all those gathered to fight before Mordor's gates, but to all Middle Earth. And after the eagles safely rescued the two from Mount Doom's consuming flames, they would depart feeling victorious.

It will have been nearly two weeks since they left Minas Tirith for Mordor, coming full circle as they entered the city's white gates just before dawn. Its citizens would have just started waking up, but celebration of their return began with the sight of their caravan from far away. Townsfolk lined the streets for them, throwing flowers below their horse's hooves and cheering as they trotted up the paths encircling the many gates of the city. They would slowly ascend to the sixth circle, where Frodo and Sam were taken to recover in the Houses of Healing, and Aragorn, with Gandalf by his side, would enter his new home with plenty of tasks laid out before him.

Gimli would give Legolas an encouraging nod before he entered the Houses of Healing, knowing not whether he would be provided Vezely's ashes or set eyes upon her sleeping form as he left her. While he held hope she was still alive, bitter thoughts continued to enter his mind in the darkest hours of the evening. That morning, the sun had yet to rise.

The infirmary had considerably settled down from two weeks ago, though the healers were continually working throughout the night, tending to those in prolonged recovery. His feet felt like lead weights as he ascended the stairs to the sixth floor, not yet coming upon a healer he recognized to either ask or be told of Vezely's fate.

Rounding the curved staircase, the older healer who once asked him of his kind's funeral procedures, passed him by; immediately recognizing the fair elf before her. She smiled; glad to bring him good tidings of the one he desired to make his wife, "She is alive, and resting," she spoke without greeting.

His eyes momentarily searched her face gauging the truth behind her words. Noting his disbelief, the old woman added curtly, as if prompting a nervous schoolboy, "Well, go to her."

The starlight casted a blue shade upon Vezely's form as she lay on her side upon the same soft white linens he last saw her resting on. Seeing her in this shifted position made him smile for it provided subtle reassurance that she had indeed awoken from the poison's slumber. He quietly sat on her bedside, finding his Elven cloak clutched in her arms and her head resting upon its hood. He brushed some of her hair back from her forehead, bringing his hand gently to her cheek, finding her temperature right where it should be. His slight touch was enough to stir her from her rest and she turned her face up towards him. Her eyes slowly fluttered open to find his looking down upon her. Time stood still and she wondered if she was dreaming as did he.

"Legolas?" her voice questioned whether it was true; and upon hearing her voice his eyes began to well over with tears.

"I am here," he replied softly, causing her to immediately reach for him, and he pulled her up from her supine position into his arms; both embracing each other and desiring never to let go. The release of fear and cold despair was replaced by love and reassuring warmth of a longing touch.

"I knew not whether you would return," she said quietly, now sitting up in front of him. She pulled back from his arms to look upon his illuminated features. A few tears had escaped her eyes and ran down the sides of her cheeks; he wiped the droplets away with his finger tips, noting the water in his own eyes had also met similar fate.

"And I knew not whether you would," he replied softly, the worry he held for weeks now finally being released.

Her concern for the grief she caused was apparent on her face, and she looked down while saying regretfully, "I'm so sorry about that."

An adoring smile stretched across his face because she offered an apology for something she did not have control over, "There is nothing to forgive." His hands were still cupping her face as the sun rose and light streamed into her room. He then looked upon her as if with new eyes, for he could see in her a light she had only a faint spark of before; the light of the Eldar now shined through her face, as it did his other kin. His finger tips gently trailed to her ears, and he found the one which was missing its tip renewed. This realization prompted him to take her hands in his, lifting them before gently folding back the fabric of her sleeves to see her wrists sans the scars they once held.

After he brought his eyes back to hers, she could see he knew of this change, prompting her to reply with a small smile, "I have chosen the_ complications_ of an Elvish existence;" words which hid a painful reality.

_Complications,_ she had said she felt an Elvish life was "complicated" before admitting to her feelings for him at Edoras. But he did not know these complications still went beyond mere apprehension of a changed lifestyle amongst their kin. "Of immediate concern, they need not be," he said to her softly. He gently guided her face towards his, lightly touching his forehead to hers and holding her eye contact, "For now we must rejoice in our time together on this earth being renewed."

Now was not the moment to speak of the necessity that she leave for Rhun once she healed. She could not ruin this moment with talk of their paths again being parted for they had just survived the great war, Sauron was destroyed, and they continued to walk on the same earth, not separated by a great sea. Time was renewed, and she would embrace him as such, for her second chance had truly begun.


	22. Necessary Conversations

Thank you all again for the follows and reviews! Now, I do have more chapters and an ending chapter in mind to close this story soon, but before then I wanted to hear of any suggestions, opinions, or desires for things/events you might want to see. Just let me know and I will see if I can write it in!

* * *

**Chapter 22 - Necessary Conversations **

Their joyous reunion was soon interrupted and quickly followed by negotiations. The healers, whose routines would not be slowed by the reunion of two young hearts, had barged in on their intimate moment for Vezely's morning check-up and to force her to eat simple porridge, for her stomach had not taken kindly to anything else. Determined to regroup with her companions outside the infirmaries walls, Vez tried to prove to them of her returned health. Legolas stood back and observed Vez's attempt, noting how her attempt at politeness was strained when they appeared unconvinced.

"...I am an elf," she reminded them, never having willingly dealt such a card in an act of persuasion before, "We do heal faster."

"And an elf that has only been able to keep down solid foods since yesterday," the healer added unimpressed, telling her sternly, "I should not have to remind you that you were close to organ failure before your health miraculously turned around."

Hearing of her closeness to death, and continued plight made Legolas wonder whether she should leave their care, yet he also suspected that her desire to be released from the confines of her room far outweighed worries over recovery. It was assured, as an elf, she would recover, thus prompting him to step in, "I will watch over her..." Legolas then explained that Aragorn, with Faramir's blessing, was providing all members of the fellowship and other honored visitors such as Eowyn and Eomer, guest rooms in the adjacent villa, to stay in the lead up to the coronation. Vezely would be allotted the same courtesy; adding that she would be properly looked after with assistance easily accessed if needed.

The healers, though hesitant at first, slowly found themselves won over by the elf prince's well-stated words, as Vezely sat back and admired his courteous arguments made on her behalf.

After they left her room, Legolas said to her with slight reprimand, "You are not fully healed."

"I am just tired, as if I have not rested for a fortnight," Vez explained her condition, adding sardonically, "And in dire need of a change in scenery," for her walls and wardens felt as the prison she once knew well. It was true that Vezely simply felt tired, while her aches had grown so mild that she attributed them to her muscles being immobile for too long. Even more so she desired to spend time with her companions, to hear of their good fortunes at the gates of Mordor, and their hopes for the future before she would leave for Rhun with little chance of reuniting with most of them.

Handing him his now folded Elvish cloak, she said appreciatively, "This has again brought me great comfort."

He smiled while accepting it from her, "I am grateful, for it pained me to not be by your side."

"But knowing you continued fighting also brought me comfort," she added, hoping he would not feel regret about leaving her.

Before departing the Houses of Healing, Vez inquired as to the whereabouts of her sais, the only weapons she had left, finding that they had unfortunately been discarded, or more likely recycled back into Gondor's armory along with all others of patients who entered there after the great battle on the fields below.

Dressed in a borrowed Gondorian gown, with only a small pouch of gold jewelry in her hand, some of which she had returned to her ears and fingers, she said with slight regret, "My horse dead, my sword broken, and now my sais discarded, I am truly starting over again."

"Not completely," Legolas said reassuringly with a soft smile, outstretching his elbow in a gentlemanly fashion towards her, which she slipped her hand into, and as she stepped beside him, her heart felt warmed by the truth in his words and her courage uplifted to face this new life.

The healers suggested they take the gated passageway on the infirmary's sixth level to the guest villa, which led them through a number of stoned bridges and verandas. Gondor's architecture was an excess of white stone piled high with pillars and large pointed archways. Glimpses of the surrounding lands would be provided at a number of places along the path, worthy enough to take one's time when walking them. As they leisurely strolled down the tiled pathways side by side, they realized it was a new experience doing so as a couple, causing them both to stall in conversing as they worked through their mild embarrassment and slight blushes.

"I am sorry to hear of Gizik," Legolas said apologetically to her, having learned of her horse's death from Eomer.

"It was a clean kill," Vez replied with slight regret, having mourned and accepted the loss of her friend in the days prior, "She did not suffer, and avenged she was."

"There is much we can share from our short time apart," Legolas added considering, wanting to know more about her choosing to live amongst the Eldar and desiring to speak not only of his intensions in courtship, but of his own revelation, having heard the call to leave these shores, and its future consequences;

"And there is time to share it," Vez replied with a small smile that hid her own concern of such discussion, knowing the days ahead would be without pressing concern for them. "Eowyn told me of your mad ascent on the Black Gates," her eyebrow raised as she looked at him, still in shock of such a tactic.

"A necessary diversion to bide time for our two companions within them," he replied steadily.

"And these companions, do they remain of this world?" she asked curiously though carefully, for to go into the very fires of Mount Doom and return would be an incredible feat.

"They yet walk this earth and are healing in the houses we now depart," Legolas said still relieved and proud.

"The fellowship has proven quite the iron force," Vez spoke impressed of the deeds of the group, which she had witnessed only a fraction of.

"We were but doing our part to end this war, as others," he remarked humbly, then adding encouragingly, "And as you did."

She smiled at his humility, correcting him, "A small part only, as any other warrior set to purpose."

"And you have fulfilled the one purpose you had when I first inquired as to why you fought," he said, thinking back to their conversation on the upper ramparts of Helm's Deep.

"Revenge," Vezely replied, knowing it was her sole motivator for wielding a sword against her former allies. "I do not deny that I remained intent on taking Öldür's life and the deed once done brought me pleasure, as it would any warrior of Rhun who defeats an enemy. But perhaps," she smirked slightly, "Someone taught me there is a greater reason to fight, that goes beyond personal vendettas."

"I wonder who that was?" he said playfully, for even if a hidden compliment he would milk it slightly for the levity of her reaction.

She smirked, knowing he was seeking praise, and instead saying slyly, "Some elf. I actually forgot his name."

Equally met, he thought of her reply. They looked at each other with amused, but proud smiles, stopping their steps in the middle of a bridge between buildings.

Legolas's face became more serious as he noticed her take a deep tiresome breath, for she had not exerted this much energy for two weeks. "We can rest for a moment," Legolas said while facing her, taking her hands in his.

She knew she was out of breath, thus didn't complain about resting. Curious as to his mention of it before, "So when is this coronation?"

"It will take place on the first of May, just short of three weeks from today, allowing enough time for preparations and for guests to arrive," he said, thinking in particular of members of the Elven delegation as they would travel in from their various realms to support this transition into the age of man.

"I see," she said while calculating the time in her head, from her presumed recovery to the journey across Rhun; which she considered would take the better part of a month if ridden swiftly on a trusted horse, which she lacked at the moment.

"Your mind takes you someplace else?" he asked curious of her internal queries.

She smiled embarrassed that it was obvious her thoughts wandered from the present, "Just considering when my strength will return," revealing only part of her thoughts.

"It will in due time," he said encouragingly, "Aragorn would have all of us there," he added, wondering if she had desired reprieve from the event.

"Of course. It is an important event for the West, one I am lucky to witness," she replied promptly, trying to dissuade his suspicions, though it sounded like she wasn't entirely keen on such festivities.

"I take you are not one for celebration?" he asked to gauge her reaction, while holding his elbow out towards her so they could continue their walk.

She laughed slightly, noting the remark wasn't far from the truth, yet she admitted, "I am not averse to celebrating the fall of a tyrant, or the crowning of a king who is worthy of rule. Rather..." But before she could phrase that troubling her was departing from the West, she was cut short by Gimli coming from the other end of the walkway.

"If this is not a pleasant sight!" Gimli cried when he saw his two Elvish friends strolling side-by-side in front of him. He was heading to the Houses of Healing to greet them both, having heard from Eowyn of Vez's returned health. "It does one good to look upon thee with life renewed lass."

A wide grin formed on Vez's face as she looked upon the dwarf, who was sans his helmet and axe, having washed up and appearing to have even combed his beard, "As it does me to see a friend returned unharmed from enemy's gate. I regret being out of commission during it."

"It was a close one lass, a close one," he said jovially, but not in jest.

"I do not doubt it. Your numbers were less than apt," she then said with an eyebrow raised, "Unless you found another one of those ghost armies along the way."

"Those are in even shorter supply these days," Gimli laughed.

"Hoi!" Two voices cried from behind the dwarf, as the two hobbits were also on the walkway.

Vez looked upon the two with pride, "Young warriors, returned from battle victorious."

Merry and Pippin straightened their posture, "Indeed," Merry replied with his head held high.

"I have heard your hand in slaying the Witch-king of Angmar, Merry, and others deeds yet to be told. As with you Pippin, from inside these walls," who she had not seen since he left Edoras, "Is it true you jumped fire and flames to rescue the steward's son?"

"Not a terribly large jump considering," Pippin said pleased hearing his deed mentioned.

Merry then added, "We were just on our way to visit you, and check on Frodo and Sam. It is good to see you awake."

"It is good to be awake," she replied, grateful to be amongst them once more.

"Well, we should leave you two alone," Gimli said cheerfully, suspecting prior he had interrupted their conversation. "Come on lads," he motioned for Merry and Pippin to continue on their way.

"Alone," Pippin said slyly, "I get it," tapping his nose.

Merry hit his friend's arm with his elbow, before smiling at both elves and leaving.

Vez and Legolas exchanged a slightly embarrassed glance, for now it was all but obvious they were a couple; an unlikely occurrence upon their first meeting and one they hid to some extent after. Being publically acknowledged as together, even if just to their friends, was a new experience for both of them and though they were not ashamed, they knew not how to comfortably act publicly in a partnership; or perhaps they didn't know what the other deemed appropriate. There was still much they needed to learn about each other and their desires before the newness of everything would settle.

When entering the villa, they were greeted by house matrons who led them to private guest rooms that stood on opposite sides of a long hallway. They were given keys, told of the amenities, and provided quick instruction if they should need anything before being left to their own purpose.

"Go, and return to unlocked door," Vezely pleasantly said squeezing his hand, noting his hesitation to leave her side as they stood in the middle of the hallway, but before he let it go, he lifted her hand and gently kissed the back of it.

"Rest," he told her softly, before leaving to wash, for he was yet covered in the dust of travel.

Vezely's room was considerably more expansive if compared to the one in the infirmary, though the aesthetic did not stray far from expected of Gondor's interior aesthetic. The white stone walls and blue tiled floors held a large four post oak bed with white linens, a desk adorned with a quill, inkwell, and papers for writing, additional cushioned chairs, a small table with candles, and a large window with open shutters facing the West.

She stalled by the desk's side for a moment, brushing the blank papers around with her finger tips thinking of planning her trail back to the Sea of Rhun; considering that spring's arrival should have opened certain mountain passes. She took a deep, troubled breath, realizing her mind had shifted from worry over her companion's return from Mordor to a new fret over her imminent departure, and how to tell Legolas when he returned. She could not hold onto this information any longer, for it was unfair to do so, though she knew not how to approach the subject lightly.

The noonday sun was just overhead and peeking through the window, inviting her over to it. She gripped the outer edge of the wide windowsill, peering over the side to several stories below and noticing her once unfounded fear of heights could be reckoned with thanks to her returned memories. Over the past week she had slowly come to terms with them, sorting through the places and faces she once knew, including Elrond's, when he once visited her father. She had lived a quiet, peaceful existence in the forests of Mirkwood for six short years, leading her to realize such a life was possible if it should ever be returned.

Despite not being a space designated for seating, Vez kicked off her slippers and jumped upon the stone ledge. She leaned her back and head against the sidewall, stretching her feet out. The sun's strength truly felt as though the weather was transitioning into spring. There was no better place to rest, she thought, as she lifted her dress's long skirt over her knees to allow her bare legs to catch its warmth. Slowing her breathing, she attempted to clear her mind of current worries and rest.

Legolas entered his guest room to find his bow and quiver set awaiting him. He smiled upon them content to know they would be of less little use to him in the future. While a warrior at heart, he longed for a peaceful life in a forest unpolluted by Sauron's evil. The war's end had only started to be accepted in his mind and though he had yet to hear news of his homeland, he was assured his people also stood as victors. He knew answers to his questions would be provided by the Woodland Realm members of the Elven delegation once they arrived in Minas Tirith for the coronation of King Elessar. While emblematic of Aragorn's transition into his new role, for Legolas the event would also hold significance as it would reunite him with his people and he would again stand in for his father to represent them. He also desired for Vezely to stand next to him during the event, for them to make their first public appearance as a couple. However, envisioning the near future with her and even broaching the somewhat uncomfortable subject of what was essentially a trite formality of his princely title, seemed easier than thinking beyond that. He first needed to tell her that he heard the call to leave these shores, and while strong in its pull, he also wanted to assure her that he would not be as his mother leaving his father behind; that he would wait until she was ready to also leave by his side. He did not want to deny her the opportunity to experience life amongst the trees in Mirkwood; to know of the home that bore her.

Having washed and changed out of his warrior attire into a more comfortable tunic, he returned to find Vez's door unlocked as she said he would. He forewent knocking and opened it slowly, though hesitated for it was not polite to walk in on someone unannounced; even if she was certainly more than an acquaintance. After passing through the small entryway into the main living space, he found her resting on the windowsill's ledge, sun drenching her pale legs which stood unmarked by ink as other parts of her skin he had seen. Having heard the door open, she awoke from her rest, turning her head to see him appearing unusually casual, sans his suede jerkin or braids dressing his hair. Remaining seated on the windowsill, she swung her legs inside, allowing them to dangle down. She held her hand out to him and he moved towards her. Once there he leaned onto the window's ledge next to her, though found himself somewhat blushed by the sight of her bare legs as he did. She realized this reaction, catching his eyes and smiling mildly amused through them before pushing her skirt back over her knees; she would respect his desire for their relationship's modesty a little longer.

Legolas broke his own embarrassment, wondering, "This is a precarious position to rest."

She turned her head to peer out the window, which provided a view to the expansive vista that peeked through the two buildings before them. "It is, especially for one who held a fear of heights my whole life," she said, and then recalling the memories once stolen from her, "I never knew why I should feel unsettled amongst mountain cliffs or atop buildings. There was no reason for it. I had no answers why it would concern...But now, with memories renewed. It was the orcs," she engaged him with his eyes, "The ones that took me from my blood parent's arms. They hung me over a cliff face, threatening to drop me if I didn't stop crying."

"Those are not pleasant memories to have back," for he had not realized the barrier once holding such memories back was now broken.

"No. But to have them," she said looking at him thoughtfully and smiling slightly, "To know another piece of who I am, of where I came from," she felt incredibly grateful, saying with cheerful tears in her eyes, "I can see it, Legolas, the Forest River, running through a sundrenched glen. The autumn leaves falling into its brook; victims of light winds from a clearing beyond." Memories of his homeland also ignited in his mind and he smiled upon her, as she added, "It is as you described."

"And soon you will meet recollection with reality," he said softly, optimistically thinking forward to bringing her back to Mirkwood, of sharing his homeland with her.

"That such a possibility was close to being struck from existence, that I was to be removed from your presence forever," she said slightly trembling, unsure how to phrase the choice she was given and the one that she took; how to tell him of the debt yet to be paid.

He brought a hand to her face, brushing her cheek softly, correcting her worry, "Not forever. I was prepared to follow you on the Grey Ships and find you in the Undying Lands," he said with conviction, hoping to give her knowledge of his changed direction. "Before our troubled reunion on the fields below, I heard the call."

"You desire to leave these shores?" she asked immediately, her mouth agape, confused and surprised to hear it for he was adamant about it not being his time when he told he about the call.

Noting her reaction, he explained with care, "On the Corsair ships that bore me to this city, I heard the gulls' song calling me." He brushed her shoulder with his hand, whose skin underneath her dress bore markings of the same birds. "I feared it spoke of your fate, that we would not be reunited but in the Utter West. Even now, I long to continue there, for my time has come as for so many of our kin," he paused, noting the worry in her eyes.

"Then, you will leave soon?" she asked unsure.

"Soon is relative for one of our kind," he said carefully. "Now that we are no longer separated, I have a made a promise to myself, to not leave these shores until you desire to go by my side," he said hoping to calm her worries.

She swallowed the spit in her mouth, before saying regretfully looking away from him, "I am unsure if I will ever be able to leave these shores," words which prompted overt confusion before she continued, "I feared telling you."

He took both her hands in his, "Fear not sharing words with trusted partner."

Turning her weary eyes back to his, which she noted were too soon taken from the cheer they once possessed. "I am not permitted to pass into the lands that now call you. During my sleep, I was given the choice of the Half-Elven, either to cross into the lands of the ancestors of the people who raised me, or return here, the light of the Eldar renewed, but without promise of crossing that great sea. Unless...my debt is paid and I am deemed worthy," she closed her eyes, "That is why I must leave for Rhun once I am back to strength, where there is need for my sword."

A moment later, he said adamantly though being noticeably torn by this information, "Then I will leave with you."

She reengaged him with her eyes, saying sternly, "Do not let your heart cloud judgment. You have obligations here, to your people, they will look to you to guide them before you must depart these shores."

He slowly shook his head, clasping her hands in front of him, reminding her, "My promise yet stands, I will not leave these shores without you."

"You should not promise that," she said staying strong, knowing that the call could pull couples apart, as he said his father and mother had been, "I would not have you torn."

"Will I not already be so in your absence?" he replied concerned, his eyes wavering on hers.

She breathed in, feeling upset of such pain she has caused, "As will I, but there is no other way to redemption than to aid the lands I helped tear asunder. If I can return and not feel ashamed to walk by your side..."

"You should not feel as such now," he interrupted, unhappy to hear of compared self-worth. But he also knew he needed to accept what she must do. He looked down momentarily, gathering his strength to reply, "When you return from Rhun, redeemed, I will be here."

She embraced him, and he pulled her down from the windowsill into his arms. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, noting the sweetness of her touch, as she did the same.

"We should not cry for what will only be a small amount time taken from us," he said consolingly, for he knew she was young in elf years, and yet unaware of the immensity of time that precedes them. "We should continue to rejoice for the light and time returned to you."

She pulled away from him, his words allowing for a small smile to find its way to her lips. "You are right," she said in realization, "It is not the end."

"It is not," he replied, "We are just beginning."


	23. Requests

Hope I created a little anticipation for the next chapter. Enjoy! ;)

* * *

**Chapter 23 - Requests**

Vez bowed her head respectfully to Aragorn as a commoner should to a king upon seeing him later that afternoon when she and Legolas entered the grand citadel on the seventh level of Minas Tirith. She noted in her thoughts that the man had proven himself worthy in war and of such respect that she now allotted him with her gesture.

Yet he had not deemed such deference necessary and he greeted her as a fellow warrior and friend, walking over to her and placing her hand on her forearm, "It is good to see your health returned."

"As it is to see all companions returned safely from enemy's gate," she replied pleasantly.

Aragorn, Faramir, Eomer, and Gandalf had been in council discussing the resettling of man's territory in the West now that the Shadow had been rescinded. It would be a reunited kingdom, since a strong alliance between Gondor and Rohan had been forged. Rights to certain territories would be provided, such as Faramir would keep his title as Steward to the King, and be given rule as Prince over the region of Ithilien. The Steward's only surviving son and Captain of Gondor had been managing Minas Tirith in Aragorn's leave. He took up the office of Steward, finding himself bombarded with issues even before leaving the Houses of Healing. There was much to be managed in this transitioning period, the least of which was the upcoming coronation.

Looking less rugged than usual, though with his face characteristically stern and eyes narrowed upon her, Eomer approached from the side; his demeanor made Vez unsure if his intentions were amicable though she nodded respectfully to him for he also now stood a king. He extended his hand towards her, saying steadily, "You lived up to expectations."

She smirked, recalling his final request to her before the battle. Holding her head high, she grabbed his wrist and gave it a solid shake, "As did you and your eored, it was an honor to fight at your side."

He appreciated the words, adding, "Rohan shall deem you enemy no more. And for my life and that of your horse, you will be provided one from my own stock."

"That is not necessary," Vez replied quickly, shaking her head, for she could not accept such a grand gift.

"It is already decided," he dismissed her refusal; he would ride to Edoras the following day and return in a few weeks time for the coronation with her horse in tow.

"Gratitude," Vez said graciously, for being provided one of the king's horses in a land of horse lords could not have been a light gesture.

"And a horse will soon be of use," Gandalf also greeted her, pleased when noting her changed state, the light of the Eldar within her, before adding knowingly, "When will you leave?"

"As soon as I am of strength," she replied, smiling upon the white wizard who tended know things before all others.

"Good," Gandalf said assuredly, with a small smile, "You are needed there."

"You leave?" Aragorn asked uncertain.

"I return to Rhun, where much is now unsettled," she said resolutely, hiding her regret for having to depart from them.

Aragorn's eyes shifted to Legolas's momentarily, who stood beside her, realizing with his friend's exchanged glance that he knew of this departure and had come to terms with it.

"Vez's part in this war is not done," Gandalf then added, making a motion to leave, "Now, I will leave you to council on local matters while I check on Frodo;" which made Vez curious what they needed to council her on.

"It is a blessing then to have you within these walls a little longer," Faramir chimed as Gandalf departed, coming closer to the group; adding amused when referring to their prior lockdown state in the infirmary, "And free from healer's bonds. If you are of strength, we could use your assistance."

Vezely turned toward the new Steward, wondering, "If I can be of any assistance?"

He added, "There are a number of men from Rhun who have survived the battle outside these gates and are now being held as prisoners. If you can assist us in negotiations of release, it would be most appreciated."

"For release?" she raised an eyebrow, for releasing enemies had never been her style, saying surprised, "You show them mercy?"

Respectfully gaining leave from Faramir to speak, since only at the coronation would the official change in leadership begin, Aragorn added, "We were all victims of Sauron in this war. I would have peace restored between our borders. And this could be aided by release of prisoners."

"It is optimistic to think so," Vez added truthfully. She then wondered, her eyes questioning the men before her, "I had not expected survivors."

"They were brought back to health when found on the field," Faramir added, most had sustained injuries and were knocked unconscious before the ghost armies dealt their massacre.

"I see," she smirked slightly, then explaining her reaction, "They may not be amenable to such treatment, even if you consider it mercy. Especially not the Variags, it is shameful to survive defeat."

Aragorn understood this, but added his hope for doing so, "Yet if you can persuade them of our honorable intentions, to let them know they will be provided escort to their lands in hopes they will rebuild a prosperous civilization, that the West is merciful to their enemies and would prefer them as allies, that we desire peace, then perhaps, it is a start towards this optimistic future."

Vezely was unsure of this tactic, and her demeanor showed it as she looked at him skeptically for he had not the knowledge of Rhun's politics or its inhabitant's hatred of the West, or of the growing erosion of the environment many of Rhun's civilizations were having difficulty surviving on. It was not simply Sauron that made them desire the West's lands. While she undoubtedly could assist, she wondered something else first, "You have not yet held council with those of rank? For they should speak Westron."

"Noted," Faramir said, for they had all intentions to dissolve this matter without Vez's aid. "But none among them desire to reveal rank or suggest knowledge of our tongue."

"Ah," Vez smirked, finding it typical of Variag culture, but she refrained from adding explanation that they probably did not deem those that would hold council with them worthy of engagement. She then glanced at Legolas, who noted her skepticism in this task and wondered as others of her hesitancy. By just looking at him she gathered reassurance, seeing this as an opportunity to be a bridge between the two cultures; a role which Legolas knew she could embrace. Saying assuredly, "I will assist in negotiations then, but do not expect them to trust your mercy or for my involvement not to raise complications."

"Your abilities are not in doubt," Aragorn added encouragingly.

She bowed her head in gratitude of the remark, hoping to brush off giving them any difficulties just prior. "Though I am of no strength today to prove this assumption," she added.

"Of course," Aragorn had not intended for it to be done today. "Perhaps tomorrow morning, if you are ready?" Which Vez nodded to agree to; Aragorn's eyes then glanced over to Faramir about preparations.

Faramir spoke, "We can provide you what guards you need, or any other precautions."

Vezely responded confidently, "Guards are not necessary," seeming to know something they did not, "I would council them alone, though you are certainly welcome behind the gate." They all looked at her as if she was mad. "I will know who is of rank and be able to pull them into council," adding with a smirk at Aragorn, "Perhaps even get them to show some form of gratitude towards your mercy."

"It is appreciated. And now I should apologize, for pulling you into this business so soon after our return," Aragorn said apologetically.

"Not at all, it needs to be done, and," Vez said truthfully, "I am grateful I can yet be of assistance to the West."

The talk of the next day's business would be ended for more leisurely pleasantries amongst her companions, including Eowyn who would leave with Eomer the following morning for Edoras and return in a few weeks for the coronation. She immediately noted the relationship between her and Faramir, amused that the small blush she witnessed on the gentleman's face upon mention of the shield maiden in the Houses of Healing spoke to their budding courtship. It was good to see her female friend in high spirits, having her brother returned to her side unharmed and for settling on love with a good man, who also evidently was well-matched in terms of ranking. For Eowyn was a daughter of kings and Faramir, Steward's son and now prince of the region of Ithilien, stood as a proper suitor for her class.

Vez wondered of the importance of rank in the settling of such bonds in the West, her curiosity mainly centered on Legolas and what spousal expectations he held, if any. Now with their relationship public, she did wonder about others' perceptions, and with the coronation approaching and members of the Elven delegation attending, including those from the Woodland Realm, she knew not how her presence by Thranduil's son's side would be gauged. She wondered if Legolas queried the same thing about their relationship; if he had worries about its revelation to his people. He was an honorable elf of Sindar blood, son of King Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood, Elven representative of the fellowship, close friend and confident of King Elessar; would not entering partnership with Sauron's former ally and once general of the Easterling armies cause ill repute? And despite being of a noted bloodline, she was currently deemed unfit to cross the great sea into the Undying Lands. Certainly their partnership would not be expected, but would it be deemed improper? Yet she also doubted Legolas would tell her if he had these concerns, for he said she should not be ashamed of being with him.

* * *

The evening sun had finally settled and the two elves strolled side-by-side to their guest rooms in the light of lit torches. They were speaking in Elvish, which Legolas continued to appreciate hearing her voice using. She had a rare accent when speaking it, and he had become fond of hearing her form new words. For Vez, Legolas voice was even more soothing when speaking Elvish, for the language was lyrical to her and very different from Eastern tongues. She would miss hearing and using it when she was gone.

"...You are positive tomorrow poses no concern?" Legolas asked about her appointment with the prisoners, knowing she had hesitated upon first request and then requested no precautions or protection.

Vez smiled halfheartedly, but said truthfully, "It will depend on the group itself, if there is a leader amongst them, I may have some sway." He wondered what she meant by _sway_, before she added considering, "But they will not expect mercy or to be released to their homeland. They may even take such words as jest, but I will try my best to make them see the truth behind Aragorn's promise."

Legolas noted some optimism in her words, which helped calm his queries, and since they had come upon their rooms, it prompted them to stop their steps and conversation.

"You should rest," he said softly, smiling upon her.

"I should, but I am not yet of mind to," she replied with a pleasant smile, taking his hand by his side, and tugging it slightly towards her doorway, "Come in and sit by my side a little longer."

He hesitated, for it was evening and to enter her sleeping quarters even if for conversation, seemed to hinge on improper conduct for their courtship.

She noted his hesitation, causing her to realize the request may have seemed somewhat forward and that she had made him uncomfortable. "Ah, apologies," she said biting her lip, then rushing her speech slightly, "I am not versed in this..." she did not know the correct phrase, "The proper etiquette. I did not mean for you to come to my bed," she added boldly, at first unashamed to point out what he may have thought, which having done so inevitably caused him to blush, and her to regret saying it. "Not that I wouldn't...I mean, I meant only to share in conversation, as I have missed such nights doing so."

He immediately felt apologetic for acting embarrassed by this exchange, for he had now caused her discomfort, "It is my fault, for appearing to think such thoughts."

She smiled at his politeness, but she knew she needed to correct him, saying assuredly, "No, I do not know how to act properly, nor do I know what to call us."

Legolas mouth opened but he didn't speak immediately, for he was unsure how to answer. They had not given a proper term to their pairing, nor had he formally asked her as he should have for her hand in marriage. For they had fallen in love so unexpectedly in a time where it was not simply their cultural differences that let proper rituals fall by the wayside. He finally said, "We should have conversation."

Since she did not want to force him into her room again, Vez added, "If tonight is agreeable to you, we could go and sit on the veranda?"

Legolas agreed to this location and offered her his arm to walk outside, finding a bench which sat on the stone terrace's edge; an intricate wrought iron fence gave an undeterred view to the mountains beyond. The stars were clear in the sky above and the weather was mild, making it a perfect evening to be outside. They sat next to each other, and Vez formed words to her immediate thoughts, "It is as a dream that I am yet by your side and to have these few weeks to be so, it will sustain me until we are back together."

The sweetness of her words stole Legolas's tongue, and he placed an arm around her back, encouraging her to lean into him. "Absent only in touch," Legolas said after resting his temple against hers, "For you will not be wrested from my heart while away."

She took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. But when looking upon their clasped hands, it brought her to darker thoughts to when she attempted to wash her hands of blood in the waters she stood in during her healing sleep. She realized it metaphorically referred to the debt she had to pay. While her hands were cleansed, she was not. To be bonded with him, would it not taint his standing amongst his people?

Unaware that these thoughts were consuming her, Legolas turned towards her, engaging her with more serious eyes, "As you said, we have not formed official words to our future together."

"There have been more pressing concerns," Vez said truthfully.

"Yet, it needs to be spoken," his gaze remained serious, "I would have you as my life partner, if you so desire to be."

A small smile stretched across Vez's face for the statement seemed surreal to hear, "I do. Of course I do."

Such words made Legolas relieved, even if he had no reason to doubt her intentions. "And I would have us immediately speak the name of Eru to make such bond official," Legolas stated, for they were both of age and free to consent to marriage, making it possible to forego a ceremony or witness, as many lesser elves could if desired, yet he was not a lesser elf. "If not..." he added, unsure how to phrase his reasoning.

Vezely kindly finished his sentence, "If not for your position and the formalities that making such a commitment requires." As his eyes seemed to apologize to her for this, she reassured him, "It is alright, I respect your desire to uphold tradition; to deem our partnership proper in the eyes of your people;" words which changed his gaze into one that displayed relieved appreciation for understanding, but she then added concerned, "But that is the least of what worries me about the effect this will have on your reputation."

"That does not concern me," Legolas said resolutely.

"It should. Perhaps we have not placed official words to that either," she replied determined, "For undoubtedly expectations on who you should marry exist."

"You are of respected lineage," he said, noting her heritage on her father's side perhaps outshined even his own.

Vez smiled halfheartedly, "That is perhaps the only obstacle crossed in a sea of others more controversial. In the eyes of your people I remain _Nwalmaer_ (tormented one), an elf barred from Mandos, once allied with Sauron, slayer of your own kin, corrupted in mind and body," her eyes displayed concerned sorrow, "I do not want to instill shame when your people will look to you during this time of restoration and transition." Legolas was unsure of what she was getting at, until she added, "You do not need to announce our partnership upon coronation."

"You would ask me to deny my commitment to you," Legolas restated her request, appearing slightly offended by it.

"To your people, yes," Vez said carefully, "And upon the day when I am return West, then perhaps," she stopped suddenly unsure of her words, for he looked displeased by such talk.

He shook his head, disappointed that she believed this an option, "To deny what we have would be to deny the changed state of my being," he said with conviction, bringing his hands to her forearms, "You are no longer _Nwalmaer_, but Vezely, descendent of the High King of the Sindar, warrior of the Eastern resistance, ally of King Elessar, friend of Rohan, and soon to be restorer of peace in the lands East of Rhovanion. I hold no shame in announcing my partnership with you."

Listening to such respected titles from a loving companion made Vezely's eyes welled over slightly, "I do not deserve a partner such as you."

He smiled upon her, "Nor am I deserving of your love, which is pure and true," he cupped her face lightly, noting the glistening of her eyes in the starlight, "You are untainted in my eyes." He noted her hesitancy as she spoke these words, but not letting her respond, he said sternly, "Do not question this and do not concern yourself with other's reactions. Besides," he said lightening his mood, "I am not known for following expectations."

She smiled at his light, heartfelt rebuke of her skepticism, "I guess you are not."

Then, sharing with her something he thought he never could, "It may settle your worries to know, my father could already suspect our relationship." She looked at him curiously while he spoke, "Upon the first time I laid eyes on you, he noted we had a connection."

Vezely's raised an eyebrow, saying skeptically, "You mean an equal desire to kill each other?" For during their initial confrontation, Legolas had an arrow aimed upon her as she held a knife to her healer's throat.

"Not in your conscious state, while you were sleeping," he said suddenly embarrassed to admit it, "I first noted your youth, but...my eyes lingered."

"Lingered?" Vez said amused, and then added with a knowing smile, "You were attracted to me?"

"My father believed so and questioned me about it. I of course, denied it," he said adamantly.

"Of course," she smirked.

He laughed slightly before saying optimistically, "My father knew we would meet again, so perhaps he also foresaw our paths being united as one."

Having regained some reassurance from knowing that his father may not be alarmed by the possibility of his son being with her, Vez said gratefully, "Then I shall worry less." Then adding with feigned seriousness, "But there is another question I now seek answer to." He looked at her curiously. "Is it improper during our courtship, to kiss you without immediate desire of ceasing?" She had noted they had not kissed since their departure from Dunharrow weeks prior.

Legolas's answer would not come in the form of words, however. His amused smile quickly answered her lips with a kiss that left both of them breathless and dizzy. And that evening, when both went to their beds alone, the feeling just experienced did not dissipate, nor had the comfort of putting formal words to their partnership.

* * *

The second level of Minas Tirith held the guarded quarters of the enemies who were found unconscious on the battlefield and brought back to health by Gondor's skilled healers. The following morning, Vezely would ride behind Legolas, on top of the horse that he and Gimli had been using since they entered the kingdom of Rohan. She jumped up behind him, slightly aggravated by the need to adjust the long skirt of her dress, which reminded her of the annoyance of having to confront these soldiers in such a garment. But she would forego complaint this morning, for she had rested well and awoke that morning feeling more alive than she had in the past weeks. She knew that seeing her companions returned alive and having those necessary conversations did much to lift her spirits.

As they began their trip, she placed her hands around his waist and leaned forward to rest her chin on his shoulder, saying amused softly in his ear, "I feel quite privileged to be as Gimli, and have you as my escort."

"I am not the dwarf's escort," he said displeased to be called so, while the closeness of her body to his, and the feel of her breath on his ear made heat immediately rush to his cheeks.

She laughed having received the desired reply. Sitting straight again, she noted as she moved her face from the side of his head that his hair smelled of flowers and felt as silk against her cheek. She was quite impressed by his hygiene, perhaps because she could only compare him to men who were typically not as well put together. She wondered if such bodily perfection was an Elven trait, and then noted her own need to be cleanlier now that the traveling and fighting had ceased. Another bath could do her well, she thought, as they left the fifth level. While she of course had more complex questions pertaining to Elvish customs, the simple every daily life questions were also perplexing and unfortunately more awkward to ask about.

It was the first time Vez saw Minas Tirith from street level, and while the battle did some minor damage near the top, as they got farther down, she witnessed the true extent of destruction. The streets had fortunately been cleared of debris, but many building fronts remained gutted and burnt. Restoration crews had started rebuilding some areas, though it would take some time before the city regained its former wholeness or glory.

"I have never seen a city built such as this, carved from the mountain itself," Vez said on their journey.

"None stand in such high regard in Middle Earth," Legolas replied.

"Or as high," Vez said sarcastically, as they only passed the fourth level, "Your kingdom is mostly underground now?" she wondered.

Surprised to be asked, Legolas explained some history, "About a millennium into the Third Age my father built an underground fortress on the north bank of the Forest River, following the example of your great great grandfather's realm in Doriath. It was not to be more than his palace and treasury vault, but it's become the living quarters of many since Shadow fell upon Mirkwood."

"My parents lived farther north," Vezely revealed, thinking through her newly restored childhood history, "I believe my father desired his anonymity, and thus refused to move into your father's halls."

"He was not the only elf to decline relocation during those times, though more recent events have led to none dwelling outside them," he said regretfully, "Hopefully when you return, the forest will be restored to its former glory and we can walk through it freely without fear of encroachment. There is much I wish to show you."

Vez smiled, consumed with joy at the optimistic thought of returning to where she was born. It led her to hugging him; something she could not help, nor during it could she resist taking the opportunity to again breathe in the scent of his hair.

Legolas laughed slightly at her manner, "Such words bring joy?"

"They do," she said amused, "As do you."

Legolas took her one hand upon his waist, and kissed the back of it, as appreciation for her sweet words. Soon after they came upon the prison grounds; meeting Faramir and Aragorn at the gates.

Inside was a troop of no more than thirty men, a majority of which were of Variag descent, since their legions had come to the battlefield late and many if not most sustained injuries by being knocked from their chariots. For prisoners, they were given the utmost kindness. The prison was a large, open-air square courtyard with several inside sleeping quarters lining the sides. Only one gate allowed entrance, while guards armed with bows and arrows patrolled from a high, second-story terrace. This was where Legolas, Faramir, and Aragorn would position themselves during the negotiations, which Vez continued to demand she do alone, without guards at her side.

Upon entering the grounds, Vezely was greeted by Derufin, who was Gondor's chief translator and the negotiator who attempted to, but failed to converse with the prisoners beforehand.

"Greetings," the astute man said to her in proper Easterling, even placing his fist to his chest and bowing his head down as was custom.

"Greetings," Vez replied, doing the same but with her eyebrow raised in mild amusement of this man's ability to speak her familiar tongue.

He would transition his speech back into Westron, explaining to her and the others as they walked towards the courtyard's entrance gate of the difficulties and rude responses he had in the prior days, saying to her in caution, "You will want to step softly, for they have not taken kindly to my exchanges despite the benevolence that is being offered."

Vez smirked, realizing the man spoke Easterling but knew not how to deal with some of the land's most hardened warriors. Stopping to the side of the gate, she looked at him sternly, speaking as if providing much needed cultural lesson, "This is not an arena where you step softly." Then turning to her three companions, she offered a request, "I ask again that you do not interfere without my consent, even if it appears negotiations turn south."

Faramir noted her determination, "Fair enough, we will be stationed on the second level terrace, Legolas and other guards will have bows in hand if aid is deemed necessary."

Vez nodded to him, "Gratitude." She then turned towards a guard who was stationed against the wall behind them, "Guard!" she called stepping his way, "Give me your dagger," she held out her upturned palm to him. While he hesitated, even looking at Faramir for approval, she added, "The belt to," desiring both instruments. Taking it from his hand, she planted her foot on the wall next to him, lifting her skirt, and attaching it to her thigh. The guard remained stationary, but noticeably wandered his eyes over to her, surprised by where his dagger was being attached, but enjoying the view of her leg she momentarily allotted him.

"I thought protection was unnecessary," Faramir asked a bit uncomfortable, for he was not used to Vez's abruptness or unladylike manners, though Legolas and Aragorn were and seemed unfazed.

She smirked, turning back towards them, "A simple precaution," then, as if a revelation, said, "Sometimes there are advantages to wearing a dress."

Aragorn laughed amused, before adding in confidence, "Good luck."

Faramir also provided a nod of confidence, as did Derufin who wanted to appear present; the man would follow them to the second level terrace and translate the negotiations as they proceeded.

Legolas lingered a moment longer, displaying concern for her in his eyes, saying to her in Elvish, "My arrows will not miss if called upon."

"I know," she said grateful, telling him with her eyes to not worry. As he started to walk away, she called to him, suddenly worried of the impression she might make, "Legolas, if this goes as planned, I may appear as one unfamiliar to your eyes."

"Do what needs to be done," he said in confidence, though not entirely sure what she meant.

She waited a moment before the gates, allotting enough time for her companions to position themselves on the terrace above, and in the meanwhile getting a look at the men inside. Many were resting on the stone floor, or leaning against the courtyard's walls. Several had their heads wrapped in bandages, others with arms in splints; most did not look up to posing any threat. They also appeared to mostly be Variags, which for Vez was advantageous. Their culture was similar to the Balchoth, and from her years spent with their leader Öldür, she knew how they would be treated as soldiers.

As the guards opened the creaky gates, Vez found her demeanor shift as she marched in, for she was now amongst her cultural equals and she would act accordingly - the general in her had returned.


	24. Cultural Differences

A/N: Some minor language in this one. You have been warned.

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**Chapter 24- Cultural Differences**

Legolas pondered what Vezely meant by becoming "unfamiliar" to him as he positioned himself next to Aragorn on the second level terrace. His soon to be crowned companion gave him a small, reassuring smile. They both had little idea how the event below them would unfold, even if they had faith that Vez could handle it. Derufin, the translator, positioned himself in between them and Faramir, preparing to translate word-for-word of the Easterling's conversation below. They had a fair vantage point and several guards were positioned on the other side and at the corners for added precaution. Legolas had bow and arrow in hand as Vez entered the gates below, her eyes glancing once upon them before marching into the courtyard.

Despite wearing an ordinary Gondorian gown, and appearing as a young elf woman of no rank, Vez's stance and walk exuded confidence and a sense of hierarchy. She inspected each man as she passed them, her eyes roaming their forms as her demeanor showed overt disdain at their shameful condition as prisoners of war. The men who bothered to look at her grew curious of her purpose, for while they had other guards enter and attempt engagement with them, none simply walked the courtyard in such a manner. What Vez was doing as she paced through the lot was attempting to find a man of rank who she could start a conversation with. Hierarchy mattered in the Easterling armies. Only superior officers would speak and she did not want to start talking to the wrong individual, for she would lose face if she did. There were few means to tell if a soldier held rank when stripped of their armor. What was left was the jewelry in their ears or visible tattoos, since both Variags and Haradrim marked their bodies as did the Balchoth.

She was starting to suspect no officer was amongst them until she considered a bald man who sat against a side wall, his face downturn, not appearing concerned with the current situation, though she noted his eyes had made several quick glances at her since she entered. She walked by him again. He wore distinct bolts in his ears and appeared to be tattooed heavily on his arms. Stopping in front of him, she barked orders in Easterling. "Get up," she said angrily, kicking his side hard as she spoke, adding just after, "Captain."

Given proper title in proper tongue made his eyes immediately shift upward, finding the elf woman standing as one would expect a general of the Easterling army, appearing superior and showing contempt for being made to wait. All other's eyes were now upon them, and some who were yet conscious on the battlefield that day realized this was the same warrior who their leader had engaged in combat with before he fell.

"The slayer of Öldür," one inhabitant spoke quietly nearby, making the others who sat on the ground standup and approach the area.

Their captain, the only man of rank to survive, slowly got to his feet. He was a burly man, quite a bit larger than Vezely, with cold eyes and an unfriendly demeanor. Evoking similar confidence, he decided to size up who stood before him; this elf woman he just heard marked as the one who defeated their leader. Narrowing his eyes upon her, he began encircling her in even and steady strides, as if a predator stalking his prey. With her head held high, Vez watched him from the corner of her eye, following him as he stepped out and back into her peripheral vision. He saw Rhun script tattooed upon the back of her neck; the character for "courage" visible. There could be no other female elf with Easterling script marking her body as such.

"Finally, you send someone of fucking worth to hold council," he yelled out in heavily accented Westron, purposefully calling up to those he knew were watching on the second level terrace.

Vez smirked at his words, for despite her imprisonment by Sauron, she yet held some respect for her past deeds in Rhun. But she did not know if acknowledgment of her identity helped or hurt the situation, it was too soon to tell.

He turned to his men, shifting back into Easterling tongue and pointing his hand towards her, asking them, "Vezely, Destroyer of Nations, is the slayer of Öldür, the Invincible?" Several men nodded, acknowledging what they saw on the field that day; detailing how he was disemboweled and then his neck sliced open by her blade. "Swear it upon your ancestors," he then demanded, needing absolute confirmation that their leader, the undead and undefeated Variag, was cut down by the evil elf of equal legend before them. The men then swore to the deed they saw, putting it out of doubt.

The captain stepped back in front of Vez, who knew exactly what he was questioning in his head, but she was unsure if he would uphold the custom of their people, for they stood not on the soil of Rhun. She then inquired, holding her strong stance before him, letting him know her expectations of the choice he needed to make, "It is now your call how council will be held, Captain."

Anger tainted his pride, for he was obviously displeased to give up his power, yet he also felt, especially due to his injuries, he would disgrace himself if he were to challenge her. Allowing his anger to dissipate, the captain stood back from her, straightened his posture, brought his fist to his chest, and bowed his head down. He then went down on one knee. This prompted all the Variags around him to do the same thing. Vez held her head up proudly, shifting her position to fully witness the respect now allotted to her by these defeated warriors.

On the second level, in surprise, Faramir questioned the translator quietly, "What is going on?"

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a concerned glance, as the translator offered an explanation, "They have shifted leadership to her."

Vez suspected the captain would give up his leadership role, for the sake of custom and to avoid inevitable conflict, for she was known not to be one to mess with. Looking at their kneeling forms, she decided to add misery to their dejected position. "Pathetic. Robbed of the glorious death of a warrior on the field of battle, nursed back to health by enemy's hand, and now beholden to your leader's sworn adversary. Öldür, the Invincible," she scoffed the man's name and given title, "I made him and I destroyed him." Yet the soldiers did not seem fazed by her words; for being spoken to in such a sharp tone, regardless of content, was the norm of militia life. Yet there was one who was not pleased; a middle-aged warrior, clean cut black hair and medium build. He appeared in better condition than his fellow soldiers, with no visible bandages. He stood up from the group, holding his head high.

Vez looked over in his direction and smirked, for she had not expected things to go as smoothly as they appeared to be. She walked over to him, and allowed her eyes roam over his proud face while speaking to his superior, "Captain, who is this warrior?"

The captain stood up, "Yaban, he served as officer in Öldür's elite ranks."

"Yaban," Vez stated steadily, "You wish to speak?"

Then, as insult for taking the life of his leader, the man spit in her face. Hearing a bowstring pull back, Vez raised her hand calmly to let her companions know not to interfere.

"You show respect for your fallen leader. I can appreciate that," Vez noted calmly, undeterred by his action. "But now you will show respect to me."

"I will not bow before this elf bitch traitor," he said angrily.

The Captain was not pleased, and he warned the man, "Stand down, Yaban. You know the consequences of your actions."

Vez put her hand out towards the Captain calmly, appreciating his warning but desiring to handle it her way. "Do not bow then," she said self-righteously, pivoting from him appearing to walk away, though it was simply a delay to her next action. Adding as she turned around quickly, "Instead you will fall before me." She punched him hard in the face, sending him down to his knees. For good measure, she punched him two more times, sending him to the ground and causing blood to run from his nose and a split gash in his forehead.

"Hold him up," she commanded two soldiers nearby, who obliged by hoisting him up by his arms. The man had fallen unconscious due to the force of her blows. "Wake him," she directed another soldier who obliged by retrieving a bucket of their drinking water and pouring it on his head.

"What is to be your fate?" she questioned his barely conscious form, "What is to be all of your fates?"

Shocked by her brute actions, Faramir said under his breath to Aragorn, "We have to stop this insanity. We cannot let her kill one of the prisoners."

Aragorn wanted to believe Vez had the situation under control, even though the line was close to being crossed, he said staying calmly, "She knows what she is doing, give her time."

Legolas was slightly sick in his stomach, for Vez appeared far removed from the elf he knew. His arrow was aimed to those around her, though he wondered if it was her who should be the target.

Vez squeezed Yaban's chin, tilting up his bloodied face to have him look her in the eyes, saying disdainfully, "If up to me, public executions," she then ran her hand to his neck, grasping it, choking him, "Your death as entertainment and your heads on pikes as decoration to the plain white walls of the city that now houses you as animals awaiting slaughter." The man had a sliver of fear in his eyes and she admittedly enjoyed the reaction, and to get it from a warrior in the elite ranks reminded her she still had her touch. She shifted her gaze, taking a moment to let their thoughts disturb them. Then adding with a slightly lightened tone, "But that is not your fate."

"Drop him," she commanded the two soldiers holding up Yaban, and they let go of his form and he slumped to the ground below her.

"On your feet," she then called harshly to the men a second later, and they immediately heeded her call, for they were trained to follow orders. She felt the pleasure of control immediately return to her. Speaking to them as she paced, "Instead, your shame turns you homeward. King Elessar offers you mercy and escort from these lands in the hopes you will respect a new era of peace."

She came back upon the Captain, who seemed puzzled by this, "Speak mind, Captain," she said giving him opportunity to voice thoughts.

"Variags do not know peace or accept mercy, General," the captain said proudly.

"No, you do not, nor do any Easterlings. And you will continue to fight in order to survive, but not only by your sword," her voice then ascended to the group again, "Do not let your mighty civilization fall, not for the Dark Lord, who deceived you into believing him invincible. My people, the Balchoth," she held high her now bloodied and slightly cut up fist, making visible her gold ring, "Now stand as ash. Ash, mingled with the dust of a barren wasteland because they trusted that the Dark Lord's power could sustain them. Instead of tending our lands, we let them wither and fall into ruin for his West-seeking bloodlust. But Khand, your homeland, is yet fertile and in need of protection. For you know as well as I, it is ripe for the picking."

She turned to the few Haradrim among them, curiously watching from the sidelines, and hoping to engage them as well, stating, "And Great General Saladan would not have his remaining Harad warriors neglect similar threats on your forests."

She touched on something with them; reminding them how, drained of its armies, their lands were left undefended. And with the East's defeat, armies who did return or did not leave to fight would find abandoned valleys or forests a tempting prospect.

She continued her prodding, "You were robbed of a glorious death in battle, but do not rob yourself of a more glorious life. Regroup with other survivors, return to your families, sow the earth, expand your cities. Do not become ash for those who would use you as quickly as dispose of you. You are given the chance to make Rhun more than what it was, take it and reclaim your dignity."

The Captain who was sparked by this plea, also had reservations. He looked wearily at his men before looking back to Vezely for permission to speak, answering for all of them, "How do we know this king speaks the truth? How do we know our release is not for show; that this escort will not slit our throats once we've departed from the city?"

Vez thought this was a fair question, for she would assume similar motive if in their position. She looked among them, knowing at first the only proof she could provide was her word, before adding a change of plans, "Because your escort will be me. I return to Rhun as you, to rebuild its greatness." She knew by revealing she was also leaving, appearing to share in their dejected position, was an added measure of showing them her allegiance. For it proved, despite standing outside their prison walls, she still stood Easterling. "Tend to your wounds, regain your strength. We leave in three weeks time." She then looked to the man whose face she just ruined, "Including you, Yaban."

She counseled with the captain privately, saying assuredly, "I want a list of your soldiers' names and their ranks. I will check in regularly before we depart, to make sure you are not mistreated."

The Captain again brought his hand to his chest, bowing his head to her, "Gratitude, General."

"It is not me who shows you mercy," she said to him, and then as if finally appearing to acknowledge their watchers, she looked up to the terrace at Aragorn, whose arms were crossed in thought. The Captain bowed his head to the king, which was a rare instance of gratitude.

While preparing to leave the courtyard, Vez's eyes unexpectedly fell on a man at the side of the group, attempting to not evoke suspicion by shielding his face with his head scarf; but he was one she immediately recognized by name.

She marched in his direction and in a swift motion, ripped his headscarf off, "Hello, Remi," she said grabbing his arm and yanking him to his feet, "Open the gates," she yelled, for she desired not to have this confrontation in front of the other men. "Move," she demanded the man roughly.

The remaining Variags held their stance when the Captain calmed their intrigue by holding his hand up, "They have business," knowing to allow their new leader to do as she pleased.

In the time that the gates were unlocked, Aragorn, Faramir, Legolas, and the translator had descended to the first level in time to witness Vezely throw the man against the side wall, while another swift motion retrieved the dagger from under her skirt. She pinned him to the hard stone with her forearm, holding the dagger against his neck.

"Remi, you two-faced bastard," she smirked slightly, for her suspicion had been proven. The man was around Eomer's age, with short, straight black hair and a slight beard having grown in since being in captivity; tall in build and roguish in demeanor. He was once a member of the Easterling Resistance; sent to Khand half a decade ago as an undercover agent to gather intelligence on the Variag armies; a task which had continually failed despite their many attempts. When correspondence stopped, they assumed he had been killed, though Vez believed otherwise. She was an acquaintance with the man prior his departure and noted a small strain of disfavor for the resistance; a disfavor she also shared at the time.

"Long time no see, Vezely. Nice dress," Remi croaked out his familiarity with her with some charm, giving a small smirk that hid the pain he just experienced, for he was yet healing from his own battle wounds; he was displeased at being roughly handled, though considerably less so by her.

"Who is this?" Faramir asked appearing calm and in charge, though noticeably disapproving of her barbaric manner.

"A former member of the resistance, and a traitor," she answered in Westron, relaying her accusations, "He gave up our position, and the names of those undercover in other locations."

Understanding what she spoke of him in Westron, Remi defended his actions in Easterling tongue, seemingly unconcerned with the knife at his throat or those now accompanying them. "Traitor? I but sought more promising prospects, as you would have if given the chance. You had no love for those you now ally with. What do you get out of this arrangement? A few broken men and a one-way trip to the wasteland you called home?"

Vez adjusted the knife against his throat, saying amused at his presumption, "Perhaps I will also get the pleasure of your death."

After Derufin attempted to translate their words, faltering slightly in speed due to the tenseness of the situation, Faramir inquired Aragorn quietly, "I know nothing about this resistance, but I cannot let her kill this man."

Gauging the situation carefully, Aragorn looked at Legolas, who was also contemplating it on several levels. The elf's eyes had held sternly on the man Vez held, he did not like his tone or the way he looked at her, though he was also equally displeased by her actions. After a moment, Aragorn added, "These are Vez's men, it is her choice." Faramir tried to interject, but Aragorn put up his hand.

"It would be an honor to die at the hands of such a woman," Remi added in Westron right after, his tone mischievous, and appearing to hold his ground before her, for if he must die he would not grovel.

Vez's one eyebrow raised, "An honor?" She repeated in Westron, "Wrong choice of words." While it appeared she would strike, instead she flipped the dagger in her hand and jabbed him with the hilt into his side, which she noted from the blood staining his shirt, he had sustained an injury underneath. The blow made him fall before her. She pulled him up by the collar, pain marked his face. "I had no love for the resistance or the West, but even less so for Sauron and his allies. You chose betrayal for better prospects, enjoy the shame it now brings you."

"Guards, open the gate," Vez called, as she pulled Remi to his feet and pushed him through it.

Once on the other side, he regained his composure, straightened his collar, dusted off his shoulders, and bowed to her slightly, "The Evil Beauty will continue to enchant me." The nickname was one which men who demeaned her as a seductress called her.

Vez retorted under her breath with a few choice words of her own, an obscene condemnation which if translated into the equivalent Westron would have truly marked her as impolite. She then overheard the translator speaking Remi's words in Westron to the group, his tone noticeably unsure what the moniker "Evil Beauty" meant, but he did not say what Vezely added after.

Walking towards him, she queried with slight disdain for the man in her eyes, "Not going to translate that, are you?"

Derufin swallowed, shaking his head in refusal.

She then turned to the group, lightening her tone while asking Aragorn curiously, "Did you know it was a veiled threat? That I would not kill him."

"I assumed death would have been more merciful in this situation," Aragorn replied, as he was actively trying to figure out their culture.

Vez smirked, saying impressed, "You are perceptive," then looking back to the gate, she thought aloud, "I would continue his shame with the others."

"But you took some liberty in how you handled this situation," Aragorn stated calmly, but with concern.

"Liberty would be stating it mildly," Faramir added forthrightly, he was not pleased with the situation and wanted it to be known. "You knew they would shift leadership."

"I did not," she straightened her posture as if talking to her superiors, trying to defend herself respectfully, "For if the death I dealt to their leader went unnoticed and if a man of rank was not amongst them to then arbitrate the transfer of power, then this would not have been the case."

"Your role as negotiator was not to take control of these men," Faramir replied, his tone verged on lecturing her.

Vezely could not help but laugh slightly at being chastised; she felt she had accomplished negotiations even better than they could have hoped for; even better then she hoped for. Still drunk on power she said to Faramir overtly displeased, "Then you should not have asked for my assistance, which I mentioned could cause complications. One being, they are now my men and my responsibility," she then decided to make some demands of her own, "Thus, you will hold council with me regarding all matters which may pertain to them until they are released. After which I will escort them from your city, and your guards will stay at your gate."

"You are in no position to make those demands," Faramir replied strongly, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

Vez reasoned back boldly, her eyes engaging his, "But they are fair demands."

"Am I to simply trust you will not march this army of yours on our settlements as you pass our lands to your own, that you will not rape and pillage Ithilien for your own spoils?" Faramir said firmly, holding his ground against her forwardness.

Vez eyes narrowed, she was angered at having such assumptions made about her intent. She was yet gripping the dagger dangerously at her side, noticeably adjusting it in her grasp.

Legolas and Aragorn intervened at this point, noting the discussion had escalated on both ends. Legolas, who was still working through what he witnessed just prior, placed a hand softly on her shoulder, while Aragorn spoke, "We have no reason to doubt Vez's intentions. My concern is whether it is wise for her to escort them alone," he stated with care, noticeably appearing as arbiter.

Legolas touch calmed Vez slightly, as did Aragorn's words, and she released her tightening grip on the dagger, she added re-steadying her voice, "I do not expect mutiny, if that is your concern. My intent as solo escort is to share in as well as alleviate their shame as a form of solidarity."

"Then perhaps we should imprison you with them," Faramir added right after, not ready to back down on what appeared to be three against one.

Vez gritted her teeth and re-narrowed her eyes on the Steward, re-adjusting the dagger in her hand, but Legolas stepped in, "Vezely has more reason than you know to return them to Rhun and set them on a path of renewal. If she believes they will not break from her control, then we must trust her."

Swallowing his pride, Faramir decided to momentarily lay off the topic, saying, "I will consider these requests," then adding to her in particular, he stated displeased, "If there is one thing that has been proven to me, appearances are truly deceiving." He was referring to their first conversation in the infirmary's terrace gardens when he referred to her as a "lady," saying the same phrase when she replied that she was no lady. Providing a courteous nod to Legolas and Aragorn, Faramir would then leave the group with Derufin by his side.

Aragorn hoped to break some tension, saying encouragingly, "I see how you managed legions."

Vez looked down momentarily, trying to release her anger at the Steward, before saying steadily, "Perhaps I should have given proper warning."

"Well, you accomplished what was requested of you and it is appreciated. I will discuss these matters further with Faramir, for I find your demands reasonable," he said with some optimism.

"Gratitude," Vezely replied, grateful she was not completely misunderstood.

Aragorn exchanged a consoling glance with his elf companion before leaving them; knowing Legolas was uncomfortable by what he witnessed and would have to come to terms with it.

As he left, Vez detached the dagger's belt from her thigh, re-sheathed the blade and handed it back to the same guard she took it from. As he reached for it, she pulled it back and away from his grasp, saying dangerously, "Watch where you let your eyes roam next time," which caused his eyelids to go wide before hesitantly taking it from her.

Both elves desired to leave the prison grounds before speaking to each other, so they walked side-by-side in silence; uncomfortable and uncertain of the other's thoughts.

"You have an army now," he said to her coldly in Elvish once they exited the entrance and made their way towards the stables.

"It is not an army," she corrected him, noting by his tone he was displeased. She turned her eyes on him as they walked, surprised when he kept his averted from her. Defending herself, she said, "I did as expected of one who assumes command."

"Of an army," he added unconvinced.

Vez breathed in deeply, and released her breath immediately after, conceding, "Yes, an army, alright. I challenged and killed their leader in battle, the Variags as the Balchoth deem that worthy to assume the position if requested. I thought it would be easier for them to concede to Aragorn's mercy if I did so."

"Then I witnessed you almost kill two men in the process," he added critically, "With no small matter of enjoyment."

Vez practically rolled her eyes before they stopped next to their horse, but when realizing this incident demoted her in his mind from the evening before, when he called her untainted, she could not help but feel dejected. She shifted her eyes away from him and said nothing, for she simply had no heart to argue with him, nor could she deny what he said about enjoyment.

Her silence made Legolas feel slightly ill for making blunt accusations. He pulled some clean cloth from the saddle bag and gently took her bloodied right hand and carefully wrapped the linen around her cut knuckles, trying to forget that she broke the skin by punching a man's face. "Forgive me," he said, his tone somewhat lightened, "I do not understand your culture." After finishing his careful wrapping with a small knotted bow of the fabric, he still could not look her in the eyes, realizing this with some concern, though he did not let go of her hand. He breathed in deeply, keeping his eyes from hers. Elves often could see through the eyes of other elves, and understand their motives and emotions. Legolas realized today he could not do so with her and it concerned him.

Her eyes watched him as he finished wrapping, finding his sudden aversion to look up at her worrisome. She explained her position softly, "I hesitated when requested this task for I feared showing that part of my character would disallow you to look at me the same way." She brought her other hand to his chin, and gently lifted it, but his eyes were still cast downward, her voice wavered slightly in fear, "Please do not think my heart has gone astray, for I truly believe my means justify the ends. I will lead these men home with new purpose, but I had to prove I was worthy to do so."

He finally looked at her sternly, querying with his words and eyes, "And that requires you become a tyrant?"

"It is militia culture," she said sharply, quickly removing her hand from his grasp, "The man who insulted me and spit in my face, Yaban, I would have killed him for similar offense in the past, but today I spared his life not because Gondor was watching, but because I would give all those men a chance to start anew. Even a man whose actions cost the lives of hundreds and put the wizards I am indebted to on the run," she did not even know if the Blue Wizards were alive, a thought that continued to worry her. She then added, "I will turn their shame into hope, as I plan to do with my own."

He looked wearily at her, for it remained hard to reconcile what appeared to him as a lust for power; and that she might have used that dagger on Faramir crossed his mind.

Upon realizing his eyes remained cold and speech stalled, caused Vez to back away from him slowly before turning around and leaving the stable's entrance; her feet taking her swiftly to the street, as her mind worked through his reaction. She wondered if it was wrong of her to enjoy being in control again, to practice her trade as a commander of fighting men, to momentarily have back the respect she lost upon being imprisoned; a respect built on blood and battle, as a Balchoth warrior. She admitted she was tired of over 60 years worth of kowtowing to others as nothing more than a common soldier and before that, her imprisonment as nothing more than a caged animal; having her fate being in other's hands and not her own. Now she was on her own path to redemption and one she decided would take her back to Rhun. Could she not return there as a leader, and one with just cause in tow?

Legolas watched with sudden worry as she left the stables, unsure whether his reaction was warranted. Yet he held a deeper fear within him - a fear of Vezely's ability to redeem herself, whether her actions and those that follow could be overlooked as necessary means to the only end that truly mattered to him: having her by his side when they leave these shores. He saddled his horse and went after her, easily catching up and trotting alongside her steadily, though she refused to acknowledge his presence.

"I should not have doubted your intent," he said looking down at her.

"But you doubt my means," she replied, finally looking up at him perturbed, causing both of them to stop.

"I do," he said truthfully, but with care, "But I have faith that you know what needs to be done. That your heart has not strayed from the task you have set on."

"It has not," she said, her eyes showing appreciation for his words. Then she added sharply, crossing her arms in slight defiance, "But I cannot stray from truest nature either. Even with the light of the Eldar renewed, I am more Easterling than elf. And obviously my manner as such offends."

"There is much we still do not understand about each other. Let us spend these few weeks learning, for I am not averse to trying to see through your eyes, if you are willing to see through mine," he inquired apologetically while offering her a hand as invitation to ride behind him.

Finding his willingness to work through their differences endearing, led Vez to slowly uncross her arms, and loosen her strict stance. For she knew he was right, they did not fully understand one another yet, despite their devotion. She took a couple of seconds before taking his hand and jumping up behind him. Once there, she realized her energy was spent. Holding onto him around the waist, she fell lightly forward onto his back and rested the side of her head on his shoulder, enjoying the scent of his hair as she did.

He turned his head to look at her, saying solidly, "I am taking you back to rest, General," adding with an eyebrow raised and querying tone, "Or should I call you, Destroyer of Nations?"

She shook her head as she laughed slightly at his jest. "I will follow your orders, but only if you continue to call me Vezely," she replied, her face forming a small smile. Their cultural differences could wait until later to be worked through.

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**A/N**: So, was Legolas's reaction justified? Did Vez cross the line? And Faramir, he really doesn't know Vez so can't blame the reaction, right? And what should I do with Remi? Onward to more tension (perhaps?)! Please let me know what you think - your opinions really help me move this story forward and to write more.


	25. Destroyer of Nations

_Thank you all for the comments! I gauge some love for "evil"/bad ass Vez (she's my fav to write), uncertainty whether Legolas overreacted, and some mild disapproval of Faramir's response, which I hope to explain slightly in this chapter. I do divulge more of Vez's dark past so warning, it's a heavy conversation chapter._

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**Chapter 25 - Destroyer of Nations**

That afternoon Vez returned to her guest room while Legolas would go to the Houses of Healing with Gimli, Merry, and Pippin to visit with Frodo and Sam. The two once Mordor-bound hobbits, which Vezely had yet to meet, just recently awoke from their unconscious state and were slowly being nursed back to health, much to the relief of the remaining Fellowship. They had only lost one member since setting out from Rivendell several months ago, a blessing they would all continue to remind themselves of.

During the horse ride back up to the sixth level, Vezely and Legolas remained silent, leaving discussion of that morning's events decidedly set for another time. Vez was torn between being proud of her actions and feeling ashamed due to Legolas's reaction. She believed she had assumed leadership of the men relatively smoothly, proved her strength as a commander who would safely escort them from enemy hands, and even refrained from killing two men; offering mercy which had too often been given to her. But Legolas called her a "tyrant," and noted her pleasure in inducing fear and enacting violence. Yes, her brutal manner may have been un-elflike, but it was also consistent with the role performed by leaders of such a troop of men. Variags were as the Balchoth; a warrior culture more brutal in bearing than general Easterlings. Not to mention these men were led by Öldür, a general whose style would have been more if not less terrorizing than hers. She could not have confronted them with any softer a manner for they would not deem her fit to listen to, even less so to follow.

Before entering her quarters, the house matrons noticed the stains on her dress and offered to have it laundered and a hot bath run for her. The front of the long gown was soiled with splashes of Yaban's blood, and remnants of his now dried spit undoubtedly remained on her face and hair. The latter of which was becoming something of a concern, for it had grown out since its last cut, but not in any consistent manner. A requested pair of scissors was brought to her and she decided to bring shape back to her mane. While in the West, men and women tended to wear their hair long and unruly, often tied up or back in braids, or for women, twisted and braided into elaborate buns, in the East, men and women cut their hair shorter with more precision and design. Her front fringe had grown long enough to allow her to blunt it straight across her brow line. The back and sides had almost grown to a few inches from her chin, and she decided to shorten the back so that the sides were slightly longer. Having had a similar haircut several hundred years ago made looking in the mirror remind her of a time when she was in control of legions; a high point in her warrior career when the upcoming twists and turns of the past century and a half were inconceivable. Much had changed since then, though she looked the same. Pushing some of her hair behind her ears made her appreciate having her ear tip renewed, for so long it stood as reminder of her defeat and the shame brought on her by those she once trusted. With the visible scars inflected by Sauron imprisonment also gone, she suddenly felt more put together, and if not for her Western clothes and lack of weaponry, she felt back in control.

Sitting at the desk, she removed some of her rings querying her need for funds. The small amount of gold could fetch some coin in trade, enough for a decent pair of boots and a much needed new wardrobe, but what she needed more than that was a sword. She inquired the house matrons about the city's markets, getting advice on where to find the items she was looking for, but when querying about the "seedier" parts of the city, places she could gamble and turn her small amount of gold into more coin, they did not give her any solid answers. Instead, they reiterated how dangerous such areas were and the need for the new king to clean them up.

Yet one of the younger maids was more willing to discuss the "Dim Quarters," as Gondorians called its district of black markets, prostitutes, and gambling rings; for she was curious of their nature as a youth bogged down in her duties and in need of escapist thoughts. "But you mustn't think of going there as I have," the young woman said suddenly embarrassed about her openness over her interest, "That is no place for a lady elf such as yourself." Having gotten the information she needed, Vez would lie slightly in her response, "Of course I wouldn't go, but thank you for giving me more knowledge of this city for academic purposes."

While not on the agenda that evening, she planned to take a trip or two there in order to raise her own money for clothing and to have a decent weapon either bought or forged before the trip. She had already lived off the good graces of many in the West, from King Theodon in Edoras to now being housed under the Steward's roof, who may not even deem her worthy of being there after this morning. Just thinking of Faramir and his accusations caused anger to rile in her; he probably took her as nothing more than a barbaric leader of a horde who would rape and pillage without purpose. She was raised an Easterling of the late Third Age. Their armies were hierarchically structured and well-disciplined, trained to engage in honorable battle against their enemies. They did not rain destruction for sport, such as the Corsairs of Umbar who proffered off of pillaging coastline residents, or mindless orcs who slaughtered people in the night. And while her legions wiped villages off the map during their campaign across the East, it was due to their inhabitants defiance and refusal to ally with Sauron, or their engagement in hostilities; she could argue they brought such destruction on themselves. Men in the West seemed to know little if anything about Easterling culture aside from a few products of trade that came from their lands, such as Dorwinion wine or rare spices such as cinnamon and cloves. It bothered her if they deemed them as uncivilized as Faramir obviously did, and perhaps as Legolas did.

After her bath, she returned to her quarters in a light blue linen robe, since her dress was yet dry. The lack of a proper outfit made her forego joining her companions for dinner, though she admitted she would have hesitated going anyways. She still did not know how to gauge Legolas's reaction to her methods, even though she expected one before accepting the request to aid in negotiations with the prisoners. Was it simply a cultural misunderstanding that she could explain away? She took to the comfort of her bed, trying to rest her mind of these thoughts along with her body; suddenly reminding herself that in the near future such luxuries as a stuffed mattress and clean cotton sheets would be far from her reality trekking through Rhun. While she despaired leaving the West, today she had grown optimistic in completing her task of redemption, even if others were less convinced of her methods.

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"Easterlings are not a cordial culture, but they are steadfast in honoring agreements," Gimli said recalling long past relayed information on trade between dwarves and men of the East.

Aragorn and Legolas had told Gimli of the event that morning, sparking a conversation on Rhun and a realization of the paucity of knowledge all of them held on the land and its cultures.

Gimli, not seeing Vez's rough character as anything to be faulted, said assuredly, "You shouldn't uphold her to Elvish standards laddy, she is no elf maiden of Lothlorien."

Legolas knew it was wrong of him to compare Vez to the female elves he held in high regard, such as Lady Galadriel or Lady Arwen. Even though she now held the memories of the six years being raised in Mirkwood as a woodland elf, she stood culturally conditioned by hundreds of years amongst Easterlings, and not to be easily forgotten, one in charge of legions of men under Sauron. Before this morning he had not seen her take a leadership role, for she followed and accepted the orders of others. Her willingness to submit to King Theodon's will at Helm's Deep was a moment which helped reaffirm to him that she had changed and was no longer under Sauron's shadow; it proved to Legolas that Gandalf spoke the truth. But witnessing her exercise such brutality of force this morning, to seek fear as a means of power, and to show pleasure in it, reminded him blatantly of her past misdeeds which he admittedly knew little of. He realized he had never pushed her to discuss her past in detail, for he cared not for who she was and wanted to live with her in the present. But he could not help but wonder whether this morning, he witnessed her as she once was and that perhaps, the evil in her yet remained and could break free again.

He queried whether their argument prompted her absence at dinner, for they had remained uncomfortably silent on the horse ride up to the sixth level and parted sans affection. Though considering Faramir had joined them, it may have been for the best. While Legolas wanted to trust in Vezely's ability to escort the prisoners back to their homeland, he admitted he felt Faramir's concern was equally valid. The stewards and her confrontation was also the first time he saw Vezely exert power over those above her; and her manner, the dagger clutched at her side, only heightened his apprehension over her path. He went to her room afterwards, hesitating to knock on her door at first. He did not desire to be confrontational, but he also wanted to be honest with her about his concern so they could work through it, as he felt was necessary in a committed relationship.

The knock startled Vez from her rest, but somehow she knew it was him for the timing was right. She did not open the door all the way, but enough for her head to peer out.

He looked upon her face anew, noticing her sudden change in hairstyle, "You cut your hair," he said slightly surprised to see it angled so distinctly.

"I have," she said solidly, unsure his reaction to it was favorable.

"I had not thought you would," he said truthfully, for elves admired long hair and he had secretly desired to see hers long, for its dark tone and straight texture would be beautiful he thought.

"Why? Because I seem unconcerned about appearance?" She questioned with slight irritation, believing now his reaction was not favorable; though she did not know it was due to his desire to see it grown to longer length.

"That is not what I meant," he said querying her annoyed reaction, but he remained unsure whether to relay to her his other thoughts.

"You do not like it," she stated bluntly.

"I did not say that either," he replied confused at her accusation.

"It is obvious," she added smiling slightly in order to appear that it didn't bother her, "I have become aware that short hair is not the norm for any in the West."

"It is uncommon. I apologize if my reaction appeared negative, for it is not," he said softly, "But you do look different."

"That is often the point of cutting ones hair," she said with one eyebrow raised, "And it was getting unnecessarily long for soon it will continually hidden under a headscarf."

"Is it customary in Rhun?" he asked curiously.

"In certain environments having your head covered is preferable, especially to shield oneself from the sun and harsher climates, but more than often it allows me to blend in when I need to," she explained.

"I see," he replied, noting in his mind that Vezely was slightly displaced everywhere she found herself. Then shifting queries, he asked, "You were not at dinner, and I wondered if..."

She didn't let him finish his question and instead opened the door more fully to reveal her attire, "I am not dressed for it. My gown is being laundered and I am without anything else to wear."

He was slightly relieved to hear a practical reason for her absence, "We should remedy that," he said with a small smile.

"I have already inquired on where I can trade gold for coin," she added assuredly, "And markets to try for the items I need."

"If you can wait for my father's envoy, you will not need to trade your gold," he said pleasantly, for he assumed his father would send coin along with his garments, such as ones he could wear for the coronation.

Realizing he was offering to provide her funds, she declined, "I would prefer not to accept more charity."

"I do not offer it as such," he said carefully, hoping he did not offend her, "I simply would not have you in need."

"And I appreciate the sentiment, but with this I can manage," she said softly.

The conversation between them momentarily stopped, finding again the awkwardness that undoubtedly lingered because of the incident that morning. Shifting gears slightly, Vez added, "I would like to spend the evening conversing with you, but seeing as I'm poorly dressed to leave my room, and you will not come inside."

"Perhaps," he politely interrupted placing his hand on the door, though uncertain whether it was a good idea, "Tonight we can make an exception." He knew they should discuss matters of concern and not let disagreements linger longer than they needed to.

Vez smiled appreciatively as she willingly opened the door to him, finding it an odd relief that he would be willing to break what seemed to her like somewhat impractical rules; but then realizing that he must feel engaging in a conversation necessary, made her slightly concerned. After adjusting the intensity of an oil lamp and lighting a few more candles, thinking more light would ease his feelings of impropriety, she led him by hand from the doorway where he had lingered observing her. The light color of her robe and newly cut hair provided a different vision of her than accustomed. She was also barefoot and appeared to step lightly, as if trying not to alert anyone of them breaking the rules. It was perhaps the most elflike Legolas had seen her move. Vez noted what she deduced as hesitation as she led him to the room's reading chairs before sitting herself down in one, folding her legs up on the seat and adjusting her robe as she did.

Wondering if he needed leave to join her, she said to him with a small smile, "You can sit."

He sat in more proper fashion and with good posture. Unexpectedly he found himself looking at her admiringly, "Your eyes," he said noting, "They stand out with your hair this way."

Surprised to be suddenly told this, she queried, "I will take that as a compliment from one who no doubt prefers long hair."

He corrected her, "I do not have a preference."

She smiled at his politeness, "It is alright if you do. We all have elements that attract us to others. I happen to like the color of your hair, for it is all but uncommon in the East and reminds me of starlight."

He smiled through his slight embarrassment at her compliment, which she seemed unabashed to give. It reminded him that she was of a less reserved nature than himself when discussing matters of physical attraction. "It is not only physicality that forms the basis of attraction," he added, bravely divulging his own attraction to her, "It was your differences and un-elflike qualities that prompted curiosity; that initially broke me from the barrier of distrust to engage in conversation."

"Differences which now cause concern," she noted with raised eyebrows, then saying softly, "I know why you would break custom and enter my bedchambers at night. We need to discuss what happened this morning," he nodded to her assertion and then she added encouragingly, "I would have you speak freely about the thoughts that ran through your head, for I desire to see through your eyes."

He looked at her wearily before replying, worried that his words on this would cause her discomfort. "I will do so, but please know my heart cannot turn from stated promise."

"Nor can mine," she added assuredly with a small smile.

Grateful for the affirmation, Legolas spoke with true care in his voice, "Through our time together, who you were under Sauron, the general, remained hidden but for brief moments of assertion. Only acknowledged through tales you relayed of your past or ones that placed your future in doubt. But today, I felt as if I may have looked upon Vezely as she once was; an elf who I could no longer gauge the emotions that guided her actions." Vez looked down momentarily notably upset, but she reminded herself not to react negatively, and she returned her eyes to his in contemplation as he continued, "These differences did not spark my curiosity but provided me with repulsion, and fear."

"Fear?" she repeated, unsure why this was.

"Fear for your redemption," he said, his eyes engaged on hers. "Soon you will leave my presence and I will be without knowledge on your endeavor. If I cannot see through your eyes, as all elves can do with their kin, then are you not lost to us?"

She again looked away momentarily, thinking through his words and the realization they brought to her, "I have filled you with doubt. You fear the evil in me yet draws breath."

"Then tell me it is not how it appears, teach me to see through your eyes," he stated with hopeful desire, needing to be told he was wrong.

Vezely wondered how to do so, for he was not convinced that her actions reflected militia culture as she stated that morning. Describing it as such was not enough, she thought, she needed to provide specifics. "You have often disallowed me to speak specifically of my past deeds, saying you cared not for who I was but who I am today."

"I still stand by that conviction," he stated assuredly.

She showed her gratitude with a brief smile, before inquiring, "Would it comfort you to know what you witnessed this morning pales in comparison to me in the past?" His eyes showed curiosity over her angle. "Meager are the stories the West knows of me after I slayed Eorl the Young at the Battle of the Wold. Here I am nothing more than a defeated heathen driven back into the darkness from which I came. Your people perhaps remember the lives my men and I took upon our incursion into Mirkwood, your father's seemingly misplaced mercy, and the ill-conceived title _Nwalmaer_, which seems to remove me from real blame. But to Sauron, I was one of his bringers of darkness. General of the Easterling legions. The Destroyer of Nations," holding her head slightly higher made her seem almost proud of these titles, adding, "You learned of this title today, perhaps I should tell you how I acquired it."

Legolas was uncertain why this would help his cause, "Do you seek to damage opinion?"

"No, I would seek to elevate it," she smiled with slight hope of her tactic, "And to substantiate that I have changed and that my methods and cause are not what they were."

Legolas looked away from her gaze to consider whether having such information would quell his worries or reversely repulse him further. "Alright," he conceded, though uncertain, "Tell me of this title."

"I spoke once of my army's victory at Ester Ridge," she replied, remembering her conversation in Edoras with Merry and Gimli over the possibility of winning a battle against terrible odds.

"Your numbers game?" he replied bluntly, having remembered her maps and his displeasure of her easy ability to reduce men's lives to statistics.

She nodded, continuing her story steadily, "Three hundred of my elite warriors defeating two-thousand Dusterns, one of the many tribes who populated the region we were marching through, as we were tasked with garnering their allegiance to Sauron. A similar number of men that Gondor now holds as prisoners from this war, surrendered to my forces, desiring mercy. I did not flinch when I sent them to their deaths. I had them crucified. Have you witnessed crucifixion?" she was unaware if he knew of the practice and after he shook his head, she explained in detail, "Not yet robbed of life, their hands and feet are nailed to wooden boards that are then lifted from the ground. It is a slow and painful death, as their bodies quiver and shake from the stress of gravity weighing down on them. That evening, after hearing every hammer-induced scream, I walked through their yet dead forms caring not for their prolonged suffering. Instead, I was considering whether their cross's position was too far from the mountain's edge for proper viewing of others in the region who might seek to defy us. I would then order my army to march on their homeland, killing all women and children that they found and then burning their villages to the ground. I stamped them out so that others in the region would fear defying Sauron's army. I dealt death to avoid more death. And I made those decisions daily, as a general is expected."

"And did you avoid more death?" he asked with slight anger in his voice.

"Yes," she replied softly, noting his antipathy, "The region fell easily under our control, but the Dusterns were no more. Destroyer of Nations. Its meaning is twofold, for I simultaneously erased peoples from the map while uniting all Easterlings under a single banner. That is who I was. Despite my imprisonment and the fact that many would brand me a traitor for fighting for the resistance, my deeds still hold me in high regard to men of like kind."

Silence followed as Legolas processed the information, for she was responsible for the death of women and children, a truism she had hinted at but he never wanted to fully accept. He asked wondering how, "You were able to command men to do such things, to go against their better nature and kill women and children?"

"I would never command a soldier to do something I would not do myself," she replied bluntly, implying far fouler deeds by her own hand.

He brought his hand to his forehead as if nursing a headache that has formed, "And if they refused?" He asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

She looked at him, saying without hesitation, "I have nailed my own men to crosses."

"And placed heads on pikes," he stated, recalling her threat to the men that morning.

She nodded affirmatively, "Taken by my own sword. But I was methodical in my violence. I did not rain destruction or place fear in the hearts of men purely for pleasure, but for purpose."

"Purpose?" Part of him thought she was joking, to even provide justification for such deeds seemed far removed from one who contained the light of his people. "You cannot justify killing women and children, Vezely, you cannot."

"As a servant of the Dark Lord, charged with building a strong, fearless army, and one that would make all of Rhun fall beneath his feet, my means justified those ends and allowed me to do what I did without question," she said strongly, hoping that he could distinguish who she was today and the purpose she now held. Pain then marked her face and her eyes wavered on his as she tried to speak her current position. "I do not justify those means against the purpose I have now. And I never asked for forgiveness of them or deemed myself worthy of redemption. Perhaps now you understand why I could not easily accept your kind words for they were spoken without knowledge of what I have done. The Blue Wizards knew exactly who I was and they put it to me bluntly, that I would not pass into Valinor if I did not work towards a greater good. A cause I did not truly understand or take up until recently."

These words made him look her cold in the eyes, he asked about something else that made him curious, "Would you have betrayed the resistance if presented the opportunity?"

Vezely's face drained of all emotion, for he spoke what Remi said of her equal desire of betrayal. "You ask me this after I have fought and almost died for the West?"

"I want to understand your more recent past, and _those _involved in it," he said boldly.

Vez realized that perhaps he was interested in one man in particular, she hesitated, saying bluntly, "Perhaps we can discuss that another night," for she was unsure how to approach the subject.

"We are on the subject of your past now, one you invited," he said noting her discomfort, but not backing down, "What makes you hesitate?"

She looked away from him, hoping to not give leave to his suspicion, "I do not hesitate," she scoffed, "But what exactly do you want to know?"

"You have explained to me what is meant by the title, Destroyer of Nations, what is the meaning behind Evil Beauty?" He asked carefully.

"Is it the title that you are interested in, or the man that wielded it?" she asked bluntly.

"Both," he said concerned, for he admittedly disliked her engagement with the man. There was something about his eyes on Vez that troubled him.

She wondered if her demeanor could show the uneasiness that now engulfed her, for speaking of such with newly bonded partner would truly test the resolve of their commitment. She said with dripping contempt, "The Evil Beauty, one would not have been so bold to call me this to my face for I would have had their life. It is a demeaning title, spoken by chauvinistic men who believed a woman could not possibly lead legions without bewitching those close to her. Foul rumors spoke of me as an Elvish witch who bedded her second in commands so they would follow her every whim."

Legolas found it odd that her Elvish blood would be connected to such rumors, as elves, despite their admired beauty, were not known for using the trickery of the flesh to seduce others, making him re-acknowledge just as Vezely knew little of elves, the men of Rhun probably knew even less.

Vezely remained uncomfortable, but added in further explanation, "Sex is power. And I am not averse to using my femininity if the situation calls for it. I have done so for the resistance if you recall, posing as an Umbarian Dancing Girl to hijack Corsairs ships," thinking he would remember the tale she told one evening in Edoras, "But if you can gauge by my other tactics, I did not need to share my bed for purposes of control."

"But did you, share your bed?" he queried the unimaginable, surprised at his sudden ability to breach such boundaries with her.

Vezely's mouth gaped open slightly, disbelieving he would direct the conversation this way, seeming far removed from the usual reserved politeness he upheld. Knowing she could not lie, she replied apprehensively, "Legolas, I was raised by men, as a warrior never to be married off."

He somehow knew she was not without experience, but the affirmation still unsettled him and he could not look her in the eyes. "Such an act is equivalent to marriage in Elvish custom," he said stating fact, unsure if she was aware.

"I did not know," she replied suddenly feeling awful, trying to explain, "It never meant anything to me, for I was not..."

"And Remi?" He interrupted, not appearing interested in her explanation.

"What about Remi?" she asked annoyed, wanting him to fully acknowledge what he was rudely asking.

"What is your relationship with this man?" he asked.

"He is an acquaintance who I would share drink and gamble with, as I did with other members of the resistance. And if you must know, I never shared his bed," she stated firmly but with more anger, knowing it was a concern of his from the start, "I have not willingly done so for a very long time."

"Willingly?" he repeated, wondering why it was added.

She looked away in contempt, "I have said too much."

"It was your idea to divulge your past," he reminded her, his eyes narrowing.

"It was, and obviously it did not have intended effect," she added sharply, before reasoning out loud to herself in slightly softened tone, "I suppose I should not have expected it to, for such dark tales must be sharp to your ears," she paused, further realizing how far apart their worlds were. Then engaging his cold demeanor with her eyes, "I will tell you what I meant by 'willingly' and then leave you to your opinion. If such has changed, so be it." Legolas remained silent as she stood from her chair and walked towards the desk, placing her hand on top of it, considering how to tell someone pure of heart further of her corruption. How to break more pages from her history and then assure him she is writing the future anew. She turned toward him trying to diminish emotion from her face, for she was not ashamed, "Öldür, he had his way with me before I was taken to Dol Guldur. It was not something of surprise after he took control of my army, for he was infatuated with me and I continually denied his advances. Rape is said to strip a woman of her dignity, to forever taint her in the eyes of others. Öldür believed this. Afterwards, when he cut my ear off, he told me that I would forever be his; that no one would again look upon me as beautiful." She held her head higher, finding his act folly for she had repaid him in kind, "He was wrong, for yes, he robbed me of my power and made me wake to a world that held no meaning, but it is my actions that will forever taint me in the eyes of your people. I accept why I am not allowed to leave for the shores of Valinor beside you. And I once cared not for this fate and used the resistance as a means for revenge, a goal I achieved when taking Öldür's life. But I have changed. Coming West changed me, _you_ changed me. I want to believe my purpose is true and honorable, that I can help again unite Rhun, not under Sauron's banner, but one of peace and prosperity. For a greater good, that lies beyond my own desires."

Feeling softer emotions overtake her, she stopped her speech, looking away from his form. Legolas had fallen silent, and his eyes had remained looking blankly ahead, processing the information he had been told. It was true; he was not accustomed to hearing such base tales. All seemed far removed from his world under the leaves of Mirkwood. While Elvish history was thick in deceit, king-slaying, and treachery, none were done at the hands of those close to him. His mastery and that of his kin was in killing murderous orcs, not innocent men. His emotions wavered from disgust, to anger, to immense sadness. He closed his eyes, trying to settle his mind, for he knew not how to respond.

Vezely grew unnerved by the silence and she left the candle lit space, heading to the open window where it was dimly illuminated by starlight. She could not bring herself to look upon the stars, for she felt they were shunning her as he was now.

Legolas could now sense her emotions of dejection, ones he then added to, "I have been naive," he said quietly, "To think I could see through your eyes which have looked upon worlds I know not. If I would have known..." He paused thinking back to when he first overcame his hesitation and engaged in conversation with her, freely offering her comfort and reassurance of her Elvish ancestry, of her being accepted as a child of the stars. It made him feel foolish for assuming her past was anything less despicable. If he would have known perhaps he would not have fallen in love with her. And yet, he did love her, and his heart cried to go embrace her, to tell her he believed she has changed, but he couldn't move.

Vezely pondered over what he meant. If he would have known, would he not have allowed himself to break the barrier of distrust? Would he not have grown to care for her as he did? She could not help but think of all the times she tried to tell him that she was unworthy; all the warnings she gave him about her past and uncertain future, but he would not hear it. He would not let her divulge the truth. "We were both foolish," she said with her back yet facing him, "For thinking our worlds could ever be reconciled."

Finally standing from his chair, he knew not whether to go to her or leave through the door. "I need some time to think this through," he finally said quietly, which prompted her to glance at him from the corner of her eye. She nodded once, accepting he would leave her, before removing her eyes from him. After exiting, Legolas stood momentarily in front of the other side of the closed door, his hand still on the knob, feeling lost; as Vez slumped to the floor in front of the window, running her fingers through her hair and clutching her head after, hating the feelings of sorrow now overtaking her.

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_A/N: Tough chapter to write, but I hope you like the direction I'm going. I know I mentioned I'd end this soon, but honestly, I keep getting more plot directions in my head and well, need to write them. There's so much that can happen in Gondor before the Coronation, right? Your continued support/love/comments/opinions help, of course! The Dim Quarters coming up...!_


	26. If I Would Have Known

_Thank you all for the comments and continued support! I am amazed that I have over 200 followers now._

_Speaking of which, a lovely follower has surprised and honored my character by drawing her. I wanted share them with all of you so I created a tumblr for the story - __**vezely**__.**tumblr.** Please check them out (and add the dot com)! She would also love to know what you think. And if you are on tumblr, I would be happy to interact with you on there as well! :D _

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**Chapter 26- "If I Would Have Known"**

As Vezely walked down to the third level of Minas Tirith, the cobbled streets felt unexpectedly soothing on the soles of her feet, for the bottom of her flats were thin, lacking the support of leather boots. The day markets, the largest of which had originally been located on the first level, had all relocated since the battle to level three's smaller specialty marketplace, due to the destruction caused by the war below. Life had continued in the White City, even if slightly rearranged. Vez had already exchanged some of her gold jewelry for coin at a small treasury on the fifth level, getting more than she expected. Depending on market prices she should have enough for some clothing items and some left over to start gambling with, which she had decided to try that evening; anything to avoid confrontation with a certain someone. She would give him "time" as desired, she thought, for she also needed it.

Earlier that morning, dawn's sun seemed to blare unrelentingly into Vezely's room, making her wish shutters or curtains blocked what once seemed like a pleasantly open and inviting window. After the evening before, she did not want to face the day. His words, i_f I would have known_, replayed over and over in her head as she tried to rest. She wondered what he meant. If he would have known she had committed such atrocities prior to meeting her again at the edge of Fangorn, would he not have broken his wall of distrust and engaged in friendly conversation with her? Would he not have offered her words of comfort in her time of utmost confusion? Would he not have come to care for her as he said he did?

Instead of despair, she grew angry that he reacted that way. For she thought revealing she was far worse in the past would prove that today she truly stood anew; that it would lessen his worry about her actions with the prisoners, since to her those tactics were soft. Was he that surprised she had done those things as one of Sauron's commanders? She had given him proper warning of her corruption, telling him she was impure and undeserving of forgiveness and further undeserving of his love. He had declared she was no longer the elf he laid eyes upon in Mirkwood. Perhaps, she thought, he forgot that hundreds of years stood after that time, and in his father's kingdom he encountered but mere shadow of the general she would become.

Or was he incapable of believing such crimes could be committed by one of his race? He said he could not see through her eyes. The Balchoth in her wavered on mocking the softness and inexperience of Elves. He spent his life killing Orcs, she reasoned, soulless, evil creatures unworthy of sympathy or life. Perhaps even his preference for archery spoke to a desired removal from killing; avoiding locking eyes with the life you extinguish. But amongst these thoughts, memories of her Elvish childhood would filter in, contradicting and taunting her disposition on killing. Her blood mother teaching her that all life is sacred and deserves consideration, to provide mercy to all; that life was fragile and not given lightly. Perhaps she stood too conditioned by Balchoth culture to truly hold this to heart, but acknowledging that such teachings would reflect Legolas's own understanding slightly lightened her contempt on Elvish ways of seeing the world. He is also conditioned by his beliefs and she cannot blame his reaction perhaps.

Or was it her other revelations that truly caused him consternation? She had no prior inkling of the equation of sex and marriage within Elvish custom; that if Elves simply fornicated, foregoing a ceremony, they would become forever bound never crossed her mind. To suddenly reveal her prior sexual relations with men, did it not place her further into an undesirable category for the Prince of Mirkwood? She desired to tell him it meant nothing, for she never loved those men who provided her the most momentary of pleasures. She had lived as any other man or woman in the Easterling army, where it was customary for unmarried warriors to have partners; or "lovers" as they were deemed. Soldiers' camps were segregated, but there was an integrated campsite where such rendezvous were permitted. Despite the rigor, expectations, and seriousness of warfare, warriors continued to have clandestine lives during mandatory service in the militia. Women would find amusement in seeing who could "conquer" the best warriors for they were often considered the best lovers. Men also found prestige in bedding women of note, and Vezely undoubtedly had admirers. But her lovers were incredibly few through the years. One reason was her rank, for she could not show favor to lower ranked soldiers, while at the same time she desired to sidestep accusations of bedding her commanders for purposes of control. The other was a growing disinterest in playing with the hearts of men, caring not for any associated emotions, which she deemed as weak and unnecessary. The few men who got so moved to profess their love to her would find their physical engagement quickly ended, for she desired no such relationship. However, she never felt disgraceful for what was a cultural expectation; for someone marked as different by blood she was not different by culture. And while Öldür's evil act against her angered her, she would not be destroyed by it, for she had destroyed him. But standing before Legolas last night, she suddenly felt dirty and undesirable; an abomination to his people. Or even worse; not one of his people.

She would give him his "time," but she would not anguish during it, she thought, again preferring to be angry rather than hurt by his reaction. _I am no child_, she told herself, _I will not cry for another. _But it was the only way she could deny that her heart was breaking inside her chest.

Before entering the bustling marketplace, Vezely adjusted her headscarf slightly, which, thanks to still having a pair of scissors, she was able to craft out of a blue silk blend throw blanket in her room. She was not concerned about blending in with men, having become even more accustomed to hiding her Elvish identity since she started working for the resistance. Donning a scarf over her hair and ears felt so natural that she had only recently gotten use to its absence. The market was large, as expected for the size the city. It was divided into sectors: fresh fruits and vegetables, meats and fish, salts and spices, house items and clothing. She moved along with the crowd through the stalls and storefronts, becoming intrigued when she came upon a storefront which sold spices from Rhun. The air was saturated with scents so familiar it brought both pleasant and difficult memories to mind. The store was quite large, with covered awnings stretching out from the facade of a three-story building, where it also appeared the owner had their residence on the second and third levels. Being sold was more than just spices; inside there was fine cloth and clothing that looked to be from lands far beyond Rhovanion.

No one was there to greet her at its entrance, unlike the other stalls who had hawkers trying to pull in customers who walked by. Undoubtedly business had been slow since the war and all sellers needed to up their sales through enticing marketing and loud revelations of sales. A moment after she stepped inside, however, a great beast of a hound raced towards her snarling and baring its teeth, its growls concurrent with a woman's shrill voice from the back of the stall crying, "Fang, no, get back here!"

Vezely narrowed her eyes and put her hand out towards the riled animal, her palm facing downward, instantly causing it to stop in his tracks, whimper slightly, and back up slowly. She then waved her palm towards her, giving it leave to not fear. It hesitated slightly before moving nearer and once there it allowed Vez to pet it behind the ears.

"Apologies!" An elderly woman appearing to be in her mid-sixties had raced from the back of the store, her hand clutching at her chest, her breathing heavy, "He had gotten loose and I feared the worst."

Vez looked at her skeptically, wondering why such a fearsome animal would be guarding a woman of her age in a city such as this. "Does he often get loose?" she asked politely, still petting the great dog whose height reached her hip.

"Oh no, we make sure Fang is tied tight when the store is open. His purpose is to protect the premises in the evening," the lady replied coming closer to her, trying to relax her breathing.

"You need such protection?" Vez asked curiously, unintentionally observing the years lining the woman's face.

"Not until recently," she said with a weary smile, taking the rope bridling the animal, which had happily seated himself next to Vez. "For as you see, we trade in specialties from Rhun, and being at war with them, it is not just our trading partners that have grown hostile. Locals don't take kindly to our wares either. We had two break-ins a few months back for the purpose of vandalism and theft, of course, for spices are not cheap these days. Since we got Fang, though, we haven't had a problem." She then noted admiringly, "He seems taken with you. I've never seen him take kindly to strangers, hence my former worry."

"I am lucky then," Vez smiled, for undoubtedly her Elvish qualities caused such affection, she then added, hoping to inquire on sales, "I have not been to the third level markets in ages and am admiring the garments in your shop."

"Ah," the woman seemed surprised, for she was internally querying why an ordinary Gondorian woman would enter a place considered somewhat exotic. She then inquired, "My garments are not usually of interest to young woman these days."

"Then why do you carry them?" Vez asked, appearing amused by the old woman's curiosity and turning her inquiry into a question for her.

"It is a long story," she responded cheerfully, "One of my family's' connection to Rhun."

"You have ancestors from there?" she asked intrigued, finding some pants and pulling them from the rack, as she did.

The old woman did not hesitate to go into story mode, telling the tale of her great grandmother who was from Rhun, though she knew not exactly where. Her and her family had been driven out of their village by the Easterling armies, forcing them to cross Rhovanion into Gondor. "...Just so happens she would marry into a merchant family, one with dealings in the Eastern spice trade. But she also desired to import other goods, mostly for herself, but for others who may have an interest in exotic fashions. I continue this tradition, though through the years with the increasing hostilities there has been little hope of sales. Desired disassociation with Rhun, I suppose."

Vez was surprised to find she had a hand in this woman's family tree, for undoubtedly it was her armies which displaced her great grandmother from her home during that time. "If all of us could have such diverse histories," she said, appearing grateful to have heard the tale. Vez unfortunately had grown overly accustomed to acting uncover that lies easily rolled off her tongue. This was her job in the resistance, to extract information from various sources, and preferably, as the Blue Wizards would consistently remind her, not by force. She then added, hoping to strike bargain, "I too have an interest in exotic fashion and desire purchasing your garments, if price can be agreed upon."

Taking this as a gesture of good will for her plight in sales, the old woman perked up, "I am sure we can find an agreeable price."

Vez would pull a number of garments from the rows, finding ones appropriate for the upcoming weeks of relative leisure and others appropriate for her future journey. The lady would also display some to her liking, adding information on her marketing, "...I know that these colors are not as vibrant as some that can be found in Rhun, but to help sales I choose ones more consistent with Gondorian preference."

The lack of vibrant colors was actually a relief to Vez, who thought the grays, browns, and washed out violets of Gondor suited her better. But she was also happy to find some reds amongst them, for she remained drawn to that hue. She found a long-sleeve washed out violet linen top, a pair of dark maroon balloon pants, fitted at the ankle, and a matching, though lighter hue short, peplum blazer with dark brown embroidery at the hems and cuffs. Her current plain brown flats would still work well as shoes, forgoing an immediate need to purchase leather boots.

"I have always admired the versatility of such trousers for woman," the old woman mused.

"They do allow one to mount a horse more smoothly," Vez added, though not necessarily letting on her knowledge of having worn such trousers before, as she pulled out others garments to consider as later purchases; a tunic she thought might be worthy of returning to Rhun in. "You don't happen to sell scarves?"

"That is one thing I have more than enough of," she said cheerfully, "They are a more popular item."

Having chosen a dark crimson one, she then asked the price, finding herself surprised at how low it was that she considered not even bargaining. Yet she found herself bargaining in two more items; charcoal for lining her eyes and Easterling Spice Tea. A small tin cost more than several of her garments combined, but she felt it could serve a higher purpose in the days to come.

"I will stop by again soon," Vez added cordially before leaving, thinking of purchasing the tunic she saw before her journey. She then pet Fang on the head; the large dog had lingered by her side as she went through the store.

"It would be a pleasure," the old woman chirped, grateful to have a customer of her seemingly forgotten wares.

Considering the evening before, Vez felt incredibly relieved that her task that morning proved simpler than conceived. She decided to return to the guest house, unload her items, and linger until evening, when she could go to the Dim Quarters to gamble for more coin. Her purse still had enough weight to allow for a promising start at the tables.

But despite desiring to return to her room unnoticed, she was reprehended by one of the house maids upon entering the guest house, "Miss, I do not think you should be in here?" Vez turned to face her, surprising the woman who made the mistake due to Vez still wearing her headscarf. "Apologies Lady Vez, I did not know it was you!" Vez smiled briefly before turning to continue on her way without comment, only to be chased after, "I am very sorry if I offended you, but it is good I came upon you," the maid said trying to keep pace by her side, for Vez did not stop walking and still hoped to return to her room without any further interruptions. "A letter from the Steward arrived. If you could be so kind to wait here it will only take me a moment to retrieve, for it seems urgent."

"Fine," Vez said slightly perturbed, for both failing her goal of reaching her room quickly and for having to soon read words from Faramir; though the maid did rush back to her side quickly, letter in hand, thus allowing Vez leave to continue to her room and read along the way. "There is also a horse waiting for you when you are ready!" The maid called to her as she was walking away, relaying some more information. Before even reading the letter, Vez assumed the afternoon would not be spent resting as desired and she begrudgingly broke the wax seal.

_Lady Vez, _[she scoffed slightly at his addition of "lady" thinking he kept it there for bitter reminder.]

_The prisoners have begun making improper demands, suddenly feeling entitled to better treatment than already being served. There has also been an altercation between a guard and a prisoner which I would consider weightier punishment for, but perhaps this is for you to decide. Your earliest assistance is requested. _

_Steward_

"Vague much," she mused slightly annoyed in Easterling tongue after she finished reading, noting how he left out what entitlements and what kind of altercation. Though she admittedly was glad to be informed at all; noting at least Faramir was upholding part of her request. Upon reaching the hallway to her room's door, she suddenly became aware of the sound of her own footsteps, for she knew not if Legolas was behind his door. It was odd for her to suddenly desire to avoid him, for so long she had wanted nothing more than to be by his side. Though as she tried to step quieter, endearing thoughts of his ability to always hear her came to mind; making her realize such attempt was folly. She would dress in her new clothes, line her eyes with charcoal, and smooth down her hair before taking to the provided horse, returning to the second level prisons. At least she looked far more respectable as a leader of such men.

* * *

_Reconciliation_, Legolas had spent the evening thinking through its ramifications. The details he now held on Vezely's past far outweighed any possibility of it being easily succumbed to, despite his stated commitment to her. She was once farther removed from the light of his people than he had ever imagined, for her hands were stained with the blood of innocents and her flesh tainted by acts which put any true union with him already into question. If he would have known she stood so debauched, so corrupted, perhaps he would not have broken words with her that evening on their journey to Helm's Deep, or have told her she was a child of the stars as he was; for Elves do not kill women and children, or feel nothing for the suffering of others as she did when she sent those men to their deaths on Ester Ridge. But, he reminded himself, she was a servant of Sauron, who had erased all knowledge of her life under the trees, led her adopted peoples to destruction by promising them victory in a battle they could not win, and placed the power of legions in her hands to achieve his desired ends only to be imprisoned when appearing to fail to uphold his standards in wickedness. She disapproved of the title _Nwalmaer_, but for an Elf to commit such atrocities, she had to be tormented and seduced by evil, and that evil saturated her entire being, almost snuffing out the light of his people.

His thoughts wavered back and forth from pity, to sorrow, to anger, to love. He should not feel deceived into loving her, but yet, he could not believe his heart would have so willingly linked with one of such a dark past if he had known these details. If only he would have heeded her warnings when she called herself "corrupted," an "abomination" in Elvish eyes. No, he had fallen in love with an Elf from Rhun, one he truly believed stood on the cusp of redemption. Now, even with light renewed, he knew not whether her hands could ever be cleansed of the blood that stained them. Perhaps her denied entry into Valinor was fate deserved, for how could one who caused such pain be allowed eternal bliss.

But even thinking such unforgiving thoughts about the one he had given his heart to, made tears come to his eyes. Had she not also suffered grievous injustice at the hands of her tormentor? Did she not deserve mercy and a second chance, as all living beings are deserving of such? And could he now dishonor her further and place her hard earned resolve at risk from what could spark a broken heart? Or could he simply sail away to the Undying Lands and let his love for her fade from memory?

Legolas had never done wrong in his life; he was always steadfast in heart and mind, a role model for his people, and the pride of his father. Having fought heroically in this war with the added honor of being a member of the Fellowship, he knew not why suddenly he deserved such hardships concerning matters of the heart. Did he not deserve the love he so long desired, a pure, blissful love, but forewent in his many centuries under the trees? But he told himself, he had found it, for in her arms love thrived between them, it was real and true. But would it still be there now that he held such knowledge? Could he look upon her the same way and feel as he did? Could he still hold her hand knowing the innocent blood that stained it? Or kiss her lips knowing that many men had done so before?

That morning he heard Vezely leave her room, as he remained inside his, finding slight endearment that she moved slightly rougher than most Elves, which allowed him to easily track her sounds. A minute later he would answer a knock on his door, noticing he desired it to be her, only to find a letter being handed to him by one of the house maids. It had arrived by carrier pigeon that morning, carried from Mirkwood and penned by the hand of his father. It was his first correspondence from home since leaving for Rivendell.

_Dearest son,_

_You have honored our house and our realm with your heroic efforts. When I heard you volunteered as member of the Fellowship, pride stirred in my heart. And now that you have emerged unharmed from battle's end to stand as no other of our kin, it does much to mend the wearied heart of an already troubled father._

_Our realm has suffered greatly at the hands of Sauron's forces, for a great fire has spread throughout our beloved forest that its embers yet burn. But all rejoice in the Shadow being rescinded, for Dol Guldur is no more. A new alliance, ending a long era of distrust, has been forged between Lord Celeborn and I. Northern and Southern realms of Mirkwood, now renamed the Eryn Lasgalen (Wood of Greenleaves), have been divided and claimed. With respect to such bonds, I ask you consider further strengthening our alliance and honor our two houses by accepting the niece of Celeborn, Lady Adele, as your betrothed. For so long you have denied yourself partnership, preferring to keep a watchful eye on our forests and our kin. But now, with Shadow rescinded, such bliss need not be pushed aside. Lady Adele is of beauty and grace, of intelligence and fairness, a High-Elf Maiden well suited to your character and ancestry. Please consider this request._

_I have also exchanged by mind of Lord Elrond, information that you selflessly assisted the Eastern Elf I once aided on her fated journey through our realm, a path known that someday you would cross. But I have also heard rumor that you may hold affection for one so damaged. I am not and have never been a father who sways trusted son from own path, but I do seek to place warning in your head for darkness that could follow such unconsidered desires. _

_I care only for your happiness, thus this letter has not been sent to condemn, but in preparation for the Elven Delegation's arrival in Minas Tirith, so you are not overwhelmed by unknown information or unprepared to meet said Elf Maiden, who also stands to represent her people. My envoy is traveling with proper attire for the Coronation of King Elessar and other undoubtedly missed comforts from home._

_ Ada_

Legolas furled his brow in contemplation, for the initial joy of reading his beloved father's words and news of the war there being won were replaced by a heavy burden of a marriage request and condemnation of his current affection; condemnation which he himself had just been dealing with. The request, however, that he could be moved to marry another for political reasons, even if his heart was unattached and he stood as before this war, was far from appreciated. He would have considered it for the sake of his father and respect to his kingdom, meeting the said Elf-Maiden for purposes of considering chemistry, but he would prefer only to marry for love. Love which he had professed to another, he again reminded himself. He knew these current complications between him and Vezely were not going to subside from mere contemplation, for their worlds were too far apart, despite their hearts being professed as one. Acknowledgement that his father did not approve of their relationship when he held hope that he would, only furthered his confusion and uncertainty of his future with her. Their relationship would not be accepted amongst his kin and he was foolish to think otherwise. Now his heart truly felt lost.

* * *

After entering the prison grounds, Vezely was escorted by a guard to Faramir's office, as he stood with Derufin by his side.

"So good of you to join us, Lady Vez," immediately he noted her slightly more Easterling appearance from the day before, "We seek your exultant advice on recent matters of concern, since you so desired to provide it," he said cordially, though to Vez it sounded like he was purposefully mocking her.

She raised one eyebrow, unmoved by his mild mocking, replying, "Quit the pleasantries, Steward. Instead give voice to such matters."

Faramir realized she was not as easily riled, and then explained as she desired, "The man who was of your former resistance, this Remi, has assaulted one of our guards as they were making their rounds in the evening. He is now being held in his own cell. And as to the demands, they come from the mouth of this Captain. He desires rites to be spoken on the battlefield, to honor their fallen comrades in death. I would consider punishment for the assault, and deny the need for such rituals to be performed, seeing as we have already buried their dead with utmost respect."

"The guard," Vez asked, finding his explanations still lacking, "Is he yet of this world?"

"He was not killed, only hit across the face," Faramir responded, unsure of her interest or angle.

"And the motivation for said assault?" she then asked, for she wondered about the treatment of her men.

"Motivation? There is none that would make a difference," he replied coldly, gaining a sense of where this was going.

"Perhaps, but if I find out your guards are treating the prisoners inhumanely," she stated dangerously, giving him some warning. Then after the briefest smile, she continued steadily, "I will discuss this matter with the prisoner in question. I believe temporary segregation is a worthy enough punishment, for your guard but suffered wounded pride. As for these demands. I need to talk with the Captain further to understand the nature of them."

Faramir narrowed his eyes, "Are you not of Rhun? Do you not know of this ritual?"

"Rhun is made up of thousands of cultures, each with their own historically evolving rituals and customs," she explained, "I do not know all that exist within its borders. If stated reason sways your denial, well, that remains to be seen."

Faramir gave consideration to her methods, noting she was methodical in her approach. Perhaps, her ways as a general of the past were not simply barbaric, despite what he witnessed of her the prior day. "Fair enough. Derufin will accompany you, for he also serves as my scribe and will note what is spoken at these meetings."

"I would not have expected otherwise," she stated, eyes engaged on his, following him as he left before turning them on Derufin, who seemed slightly uncomfortable by her presence.

"This way," he stammered out, afterwards leading her to the holding cells.

Vez was not surprised it would be Remi who caused the problem; she figured he would be a thorn in her side until dropping him off at the borders of Khand.

Coming upon his cell, she said mockingly, "Seems you have found yourself rightful place."

He smirked before standing up from his seat, replying slyly while his eyes grazed over her body, "And you proper attire. Rhun finery suits you like no other."

Ignoring his remark, Vez inquired, "You are charged with assaulting a guard. I would hear more of this incident, not that I can trust anything you say."

"The guard got but deserved reply for brash insult of the one who now stands before me," Remi stated assuredly, standing a bit straighter.

"The guard insulted me?" Vezely queried disbelievingly.

"Gondorians do not know what it means to follow a woman of such worth," he stated with some pride while awaiting her reaction.

Remi had not changed one inkling since their prior engagements, continuing his unanswered affection for her and self-righteous attitude. "Regardless of their backwardness, it has cost you," she added mildly, not disagreeing with his assertion on Gondorian gender norms, "You will remain segregated for some time."

"Such a price is worth defending your honor," he added again with mischievous intent.

"Is it?" she asked now slightly perturbed, "When yesterday, a dishonorable title of past flowed freely from lips?" She considered he was partially to blame for her disagreement with Legolas last night, and his interest in the meaning behind the moniker the "Evil Beauty," which prompted discussion of an uncomfortable and thereafter damning subject.

He smirked, reminding her that she hit him with the hilt of the dagger, "You did just cause grievous injury," he said placing a hand on his side.

She smirked slightly, "In lieu of one more deserved. Try not to find yourself in another mishap, for I will not dissuade harsher punishment," then she turned from him, having finished conversation and desiring to speak with the Captain.

"I will take this as you yet holding favor for me," he remarked amused as she left.

Vez stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, saying sardonically, "As one favors piss and shit," causing Remi to laughed, for Vez had not changed much in his mind either; still sarcastic and foul mouthed when she wanted to be. He could not deny he had a thing for her, and enjoyed every opportunity provided to let her know; missing such banter. As for Vez, Remi remained delusional she thought, as she continued down the corridor, Derufin at her side. The translator had not said a word while listening to their conversation, though he took brief notes.

At the gates of the courtyard, she asked him, "Will you be joining me?" Wondering if the man was brave enough to venture beyond the gates.

"Yes, I will," he said, trying to sound unworried.

"Alright, but I will not be held responsible for your safety," she replied nonchalantly in order to add to his discomfort with the task. The guard she had taken the dagger from the day prior started removing the belt from his side, fearful to be asked and wanting to be ready. Noting this, Vez smirked, "The weapon is not necessary today."

"Not necessary?" Derufin asked confused, perhaps hoping for the added protection.

"Nope, open the gates," Vez asked the guards who obliged.

Walking in with Derufin behind her, Vez was greeted by her men, who stood from their seated positions to offer respect for their new leader. "At ease," she said switching back into Easterling tongue, as she paced through them towards the Captain who also stood to greet her.

"General," the large, bald headed man greeted her properly.

"Captain," she replied back, "Forgive my shadow," she said referring to Derufin who trailed behind her. "They place little trust in us foreigners," which caused him to smirk. "But I would have proper council and perhaps, decent tea can be prepared for it," she said retrieving from her jacket pocket the small tin of Easterling Spice Tea she had purchased from the market that morning.

The prisoners had means to boil their own water, and thus make tea by kettle on one of the many small furnaces which served to heat the side rooms where they slept. The Captain immediately gave orders to a soldier to prepare the tea, as another placed a blanket on the floor as a makeshift meeting area. Vezely said nothing as the soldiers did the work; sitting comfortably on the floor across from the Captain holding her head high as the kettle and cups were brought to them and they were served. Vezely had many meetings like this with fellow commanders, the manners of which were specific and honed. Both observed them, customarily refusing to speak before the tea was poured and enjoyed. Derufin sat uncomfortably nearby, not given the same honor of being served tea.

After their first sip, the Captain retrieved from his shirt pocket a folded paper, placing it on the floor and pushing it over to Vez, who retrieved it and opened it to find scribed within the lists of all the soldiers names and ranks, including the names of the few Haradrim remaining.

"Gratitude," Vez spoke, breaking the silence as she perused the names on the list, grateful he had fulfilled her request, before folding the paper and placing it inside her own jacket pocket. "I wish to break words on the nature of the rites you desire performed, in hopes of persuading those of its necessity," her eyes shifted momentarily to Derufin, further explaining the nature of his presence and of her holding council.

Noting exactly what she meant, the Captain began his explanation, "A fortnight has passed, and before a second follows, oak and oil needs to be burned and rites spoken on the field of battle in order to ensure the spirits of the deceased will be sped along..." He further explained how since the bodies of their dead were not burned as customary, instead buried in a mass grave, such as ritual was even more necessary. He then added in confidence to her, raising one eyebrow, "I am as most commanders in regard to such rituals," revealing he was as her, for leaders often believed such superstitions were more important for the comfort and morale of those yet living, rather than actually having an effect on the spirits of those dead.

Vez nodded in understanding before adding, "If I recall, a divinator is needed to perform such rites," having heard of the ritual.

"There is one of proper ancestry who could perform them," he replied.

Vez internally acknowledged that the man he referred to was Remi, for his divination ancestry was an important factor in the resistance sending him to Khand; his name substantiated his connection to the region and he could enter the ranks of the Variags with a title of importance, possibly giving his access to valuable information. Vez then questioned whether the Haradrim had equal rituals of need, only to discover their moment to be performed had unfortunately passed. "...I will speak of its necessity to the Steward."

"Gratitude," he said proudly.

"Do not thank me until it is done," she said, before finishing her small cup of tea and placing the empty cup down in a fashion that alluded to the meeting's end and her departure. The Captain bowed his head down, showing deference to her as she stood up. Derufin also clumsily stood up behind her, finding his foot had fallen asleep below him.

The soldiers again stood straight in her honor as she walked through them, her eyes finding Yaban standing amongst them, his brow having been stitched of the gash her fist provided the day before. She walked over to him, curious of his current opinion on her. "Have you found your place, Officer Yaban?" she asked. He immediately bowed his head in deference, "Yes, General."

She turned towards her men, hoping to exchange words of confidence with them before leaving, "Break words with your Captain of any mistreatment at the hands of your captures, and know they will not go unanswered. But do not succumb to retaliation, for I would see all of you through those gates when the day comes..."

Vezely would go from a position of power to one of disrespect, being made to wait as Derufin counseled privately with Faramir on the nature of both conversations that took place, knowing not if his words were true to the events witnessed. He had also taken the list of names the Captain had given her, to inspect of any covert messages. Faramir would concede to the requests for these rites being performed, seeing no harm in oak and oil being burned, if farther afield from the main pathway into the city. Though he was less than pleased when hearing the divinator who would carry out the task was none other than the man who assaulted the guard and was being held in his own cell. Vezely was also less than pleased by this, assuming she would need to accompany Remi as he preformed the rites.

"...I want it done before guests arrive for the Coronation," he said, not desiring to draw the attention of outsiders to these concessions made to everyone's enemy.

Vez bowed her head appreciatively, as Faramir further explained the deed would not be done before Remi got his deserved punishment for assaulting the guard; he was to be sequestered from the others for at least another day.

While outwardly appearing in control of her emotions, internally Vez remained in a foul mood from the evening before. And returning to the guest villa feeling slightly fatigued and only desiring rest before the evening rolled around, made her acknowledge the possibility of snapping at any moment. If a house maid stopped her on her way to her room this time, she thought, she would not be so kind. But instead of a house maid diverting her path, she unexpectedly encountered Gandalf, whom she had not exchanged words with in some time. He beckoned her to come and sit with him in the nearby courtyard, to discuss matters that were undoubtedly of importance, for the wizard always had something important to say.

* * *

_**A/N**__: Hope this chapter gives you a few things to look forward to - more Remi and Lady Adele (oh awkwardness!). And I again took the liberty of inventing more Easterling culture, especially in relation to Vez and her past discretions - I answered the "purity" question and I think it made Legolas uncomfortable...poor guy._

_And also wondering, I was not planning to have Thranduil at the Coronation (since he's got a realm to manage), but I read that possibly Celeborn was? If any Tolkienites know of Elf attendance, I would appreciate it! Or if you want Thrandy there, I can do that too. :D_

_Thank you again for all your comments - I love reading them. *hugs*_


	27. The Dim Quarters

**_A/N:_**_ Well, here we go! Uh oh..._

* * *

**Chapter 27 - The Dim Quarters**

"You are a vision of rebirth my dear," Gandalf said pleasantly as Vezely sat next to him on the white stone bench, her expression noticeably taking these words as jest. "Truly," he said assuredly, hoping to further explain, "You do not remember, but I pulled you from the dungeons of Dol Guldor." The mention of the fortress of her prior captivity further piqued Vezely's interest in what he had to say, "You were but a shell of a being, the light of your people almost spent. I was not convinced you would recover, but you have proved an old wizard wrong."

Vez smiled slightly and casted her eyes aside, feeling uncomfortable to know he saw her in such a pathetic state. She did not recall much from the event when the White Council drove out Sauron, except for waking up many days or possibly weeks later in the house of the Blue Wizard Romestano, far out on the edge of the deserts of Rhun.

"It may do your heart well to know that the fortress is destroyed. Lady Galadriel has torn down its walls," he announced, desiring to tell her the news when he heard it.

Her eyes flicked back to him, for she wasn't expecting to hear of its destruction, and further wondering of surrounding Mirkwood, "And the forests?"

"The Woodland Realm yet stands, though with substantial losses. Fire has spread throughout, but Sauron's servants are no more," he noted she displayed some concern for her homeland and was glad for it.

Vez breathed in deeply, glad to hear the war there was over, though desiring some other details, "Was it the Easterlings?"

"No, the Orcs of Dol Guldor. Despite Sauron's intentions, the Easterlings never joined the attack. Most of their legions were destroyed by the Dwarves and the men of Dale at the Lonely Mountain after Sauron fell. Though if otherwise, such good tidings may not have been," he said steadily.

Vez nodded halfheartedly, strangely thinking of her life being reversed - if they still had been her legions and if her current fate was as theirs. She knew many if not most fought to the deaths, as Easterling militias were trained to.

Gandalf picked up on her melancholy, and slightly changing the topic asked, "I've heard you've assumed leadership of the prisoners and will be their escort back to Rhun."

"I have, though not all are convinced it is a good idea," she responded wearily.

The wizard considered a moment, before revealing more information, "There was a reason the Blue Wizards never provided you rank in the resistance," for Vez was always delegated menial tasks, "It was not because you lacked ability."

"Because I was untrustworthy," she responded knowingly; despite the years spent with them she never came to care much for their cause, always believing it folly.

"Perhaps," Gandalf considered with a slight lift of one eyebrow, adding, "But more so you needed to learn humility before being sent West, which had always been the plan." Vez had assumed this; that the Blue Wizards had been priming her to go West, and having her learn Elvish was part of it.

"Then it was wrong of me to assume leadership?" She jumped to this conclusion.

"No," Gandalf replied curtly, "You have Maiar in your blood, you are a natural leader. But you needed humility to move past your own ambitions, to find something higher to lead for."

Vezely contemplated his words, before smiling slightly, conceding what it was, "The greater good."

He nodded, "The war is not over in the East. The Blue Wizards would now have you use your honed strategies and tactics to help reduce the bloodshed, to help end the chaos. You no longer work for Sauron, but for the greater good. It is the debt you owe. And you will not seek glory for it, or stand to gain more than what is earned. There may yet be peace for Rhun, and for yourself when it is over."

"Peace," she repeated the word with slight disdain, becoming even more reluctant to hope for it personally, "I still know not what that is."

"Search back to your memories before you were taken, you will find it there," he replied.

Vez thought to her childhood, happy memories came to her but if offered only concern, "But it is as gazing upon another self, a stranger."

Gandalf added, "Your path to peace can only come after you reconcile it is not," prompting confusion in her eyes, "You cannot be Vezely of Rhun or Bellethiel of Mirkwood," he said raising an eyebrow at her, "Oh yes, I know your Elf name. No, instead you are just Vezely, or Vez as many now call you," he smirked, noting he had created the nickname when he first introduced her to King Theodon, "Once you accept that, others will too."

Vez noticed that like Romestano, Gandalf always simplified situations. They were never wrong with their assertions, but tended to leave out the steps which complicated the path between A and B.

He stood up from the bench, and turned to her, "No one is perfect, Vezely," and then adding with a certain amount of charm, "Not even Elves."

She smiled; glad to hear such an assertion, especially after spending the evening thinking of herself as completely unworthy of the race. "I've been meaning to ask you," Vez started, stopping him from leaving momentarily, "The Blue Wizards, are they alive?"

Gandalf smiled down at her, grateful to hear genuine concern and perhaps even fear in her question, "They yet may be," causing her to breathe in another deep breath, gaining some hope even if it was uncertain. He looked up at the sky considering, "Ah, it may just rain tonight."

She was amused on how Gandalf could end a heavy conversation on a lighter note, but it did little to stop her from over contemplating. Where just before she wanted to dash to her room, now she remained completely still, feeling the weight of this new information - the fall of Dol Guldur, about the destruction of the Easterling armies, about the torching of Mirkwood. An odd mix of melancholia and relief rushed over her and she stared blankly ahead, finding the anger from before subside slightly and wondering further about her future path.

Legolas had been returning to his room after an afternoon of his own responsibilities. The Elven Delegation would arrive in Minas Tirith in a number of days and being the delegate currently there he would assist in preparing for their arrival, even taking on menial tasks such as arranging guest rooms, since he knew a few Elves not to room next to each other, meeting times, coronation details, even food, for Elves were specific in their diets. Having such tasks, even if not entirely pressing, allowed his mind a much needed respite from the evening spent in contemplation and the discomfort caused by the letter received from his father that morning. But walking into the courtyard and seeing Vezely, now clothed in foreign garb further reminding him of her difference, and seated completely still, staring blankly ahead, exuding unsettling emotions, again brought back his prior feelings of confusion. He stalled his steps, noting he desired to engage in conversation with her, but was uncertain how to.

Though before a decision was made, she had turned her eyes on him, having heard his movement just prior. Her gaze narrowed, and a second later she looked away in obvious contempt for his presence. For Vez, her anger immediately returned when she noticed he had stalled, obviously contemplating whether to avoid crossing her path or not. He wanted avoidance she thought, perturbed over his hesitation, so she stood up and walked away from him not looking back. Unfortunately it was not in the direction of her room, since that was where he stood, so she really had no plans on where she'd end up.

Legolas felt wounded by her response, suspecting he had induced such contempt by his actions for leaving her last night. He began following her, knowing it was wrong of him to provide her the cold shoulder after he had said his heart would not skate from promised affection. Perhaps, he thought in pursuit, it was not his heart but his head which confounded him.

Vez continued her route on an unknown path through the guest villa, unexpectedly running into two hobbits merrily making their way to the kitchen.

"Hoi Vez, fancy meeting you here," Merry said cordially.

"Though I don't think it's too surprising Merry, seeing as we are all staying in the same villa," Pippin added jovially, making Vez again wonder whether he was poking fun at Merry's sarcasm or completely unaware of it.

"I know that Pip," Merry replied quickly after, an all too common reply to his friend's remarks.

"Where are you two off to?" Vez asked, thinking she could follow.

"The kitchen, of course," Merry said forthrightly.

"We discovered a secret," Pippin stated, appearing proud to soon reveal it, "After meal leftovers are actually left over in the kitchen. Perfect to go sneak a mid-day snack, or in this case, a before dinner snack."

"You're welcome to join us, of course," Merry added optimistically.

"I'd like that. I've yet to eat lunch." She was admittedly glad for the offer, giving her a place to continue to and avoid a possibly contentious confrontation.

"No lunch, why would one skip a meal when food is aplenty? They had best meat pies today..." Pippin continued his friendly banter as they continued their way to the kitchens.

Legolas overheard Vez's encounter with the hobbits from an opposite corridor, causing him to forgo his chase. He needed not provide an awkward confrontation amongst trusted friends who had only just recently heard of their courtship. He would equally avoid discussing their personal troubles with anyone, though he knew Aragorn would lend an understanding ear if need be. No, he needed to work this out with her privately and explain to her why he reacted that way. He was equally determined to settle this before the Elven Delegation arrived, when a host of other issues, now alluded to in his father's letter, would undoubtedly complicate everything.

* * *

The pre-dinner snack was adequate enough for dinner with Vez's non-hobbit sized stomach, for the villa certainly had the stock of food to appease a large amount of guests, which reminded Vez of the change in activity that would soon take place there in the lead-up to the coronation. Merry and Pippin's conversation continued to mention Frodo and Sam, both still recovering in the infirmary. The two were still overjoyed at being reunited. It reminded Vez of all those she would be introduced to in the upcoming days, with the two heroic hobbits the least of her concern. While she knew very little about the Elven Delegation, she was aware that the delegates hailed from each of the Elven kingdoms in the West, including the Woodland Realm. She knew Lord Elrond would attend, but she was unsure if Legolas's father, Thranduil would. Even without the current conflict going on between her and Legolas, meeting members of her race who held important enough status to represent their people, and who undoubtedly would know or have heard of her past relations did much to dampen her resolve. In the West, deeds that earned her respect to Rhun's warring cultures, which helped garner her leadership position of the remaining Variags, were obviously not points of honor for Elvish culture; indeed, they were points of denigration. While she certainly did not desire total acceptance, being lovingly embraced by her kin was far from her mind, she equally did not desire flat out rejection or contempt, which she felt she was dealing with from Legolas at the moment. Gandalf's words to her, of reconciling her two sides, seemed far from a reasonable solution to gathering even neutral opinions from Elvish elites. She would maintain her confidence and stay true to herself, she thought; she was on the right path and she believed in her methods, even if others were less than certain of them.

* * *

Despite the foreboding chance of rain, Vezely still had her mind set on going to the Dim Quarters in hopes of multiplying her coin. She dressed again in her Gondorian gown and covered her ears and hair by a headscarf, for if the city was truly hostile to any affiliation with Rhun, as the old shop keeper had told her, she did not need to flag herself as from there by wearing foreign garments; especially in quarters where the city's less noble mingled. The sights lining the streets which composed the Dim Quarters were not unfamiliar to Vez, who had seen similar places in all the larger cities she had stayed in. Despite darkness having just fallen on Minas Tirith, already drunkards were pacing the streets outside, making their way to the next bar, the largest of which, Caster's Haven, was an establishment known for its underground gambling rings, or at least that is what the young house maid had told her. She knew after walking into the dark interior, whose candlelight was dimmed by the excessive pipe smoking, that she stood out. Not that other young women weren't there, but the style of her dress and headscarf, both demure for these parts of town, marked her as an innocent amongst wolves.

She stood at the bar and ordered a pint of ale before turning her back on it and propping her elbows behind her on its ledge. Tuning out the racket from the band playing, which was not soothing to her ears by any means, she surveyed the room's characters confidently; her stance and demeanor appearing less out of place than her outfit. As expected it took only a matter of seconds until a man engaged in conversation with her.

He was tall, middle aged, dark of hair and short in beard, "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, as if a concerned father, though undoubtedly with other intentions.

Her ale had just been brought and she turned around to retrieve it, "Wouldn't you like to know," she said with some attitude, giving him a bit of the run around, causing him to smirk and shift his eyes to his friends who were watching the exchange from afar. He wasn't going to give up that easy.

Vez took a swig of her ale as the man nudged up closer to her side, "If you're looking for a good time," he added chivalrously, "I can be of service."

"Can you now?" she said raising one eyebrow, "If you or your friends over there," her eyes shifted, noting that she knew he was communicating with them, "Know where I can multiply my coin, then perhaps you can."

"You, take to the tables?" he laughed slightly, truly thinking she was joking.

"Take is a good word for my purpose," she replied bluntly.

He cackled, but noting she was a serious, he added, "Alright little thing. But I wouldn't recommend it. The tables are not kind to newcomers."

She smirked slightly before engaging his eyes, "Oh I count on it."

The man figured it couldn't hurt to let her waste her coin if it gave him an opportunity for some company after. "Well then, why don't you follow me?" He glanced again at his friends who were impressed that the girl followed him, but surprised as they walked towards a door at the back of the establishment. The man knocked and the door was opened to them, revealing a staircase leading into the attic which was filled with busy gambling tables full of rough looking patrons and air even thicker in pipe smoke.

"Who's the girl?" the large man at the door asked, appearing to be familiar with Vez's new companion.

"She has coin to throw away," he said exchanging an encouraging look to let them pass, "Might as well let her." The doorman stepped aside, foregoing giving him trouble due to owing his friend a favor; assuming rightly that he was interested in the girl for other purposes.

Vez had seen enough clandestine gambling circles in her time, always hidden in the darkest corners of cities which purported a wholesome facade. Minas Tirith's walls stood white, its citizens dressed demurely, its culture upheld noble practice, but as with every city, there existed a darker underbelly which punctured that superficial reality. She knew to step lightly for within this world; powerful people played dark games, and newcomers seeking profits or anything else were easy targets. She would sit alongside her new male friend, who introduced himself as Bayler along with the names of the others at the table, "...And your name little lady?" He asked.

"Vesper," she smirked slightly, not having used that alias in some time.

"That's an interesting name," Bayler replied.

"My mother was an interesting person," Vez replied looking at him, adding sarcastically, "But I don't think you're interested in my mother," which caused him to laugh.

"Can she play?" the man across from her asked Bayler, slightly perturbed that his friend brought the woman and now appeared to be flirting with her, apparently wasting their playing time.

"And she can also answer questions," Vez quickly retorted, taking adequate coin from her purse and placing them on the table. "I believe this weighs more heavily on your mind."

The man shifted his gaze to the other players, and Vez knew they were exchanging similar thoughts - that her coin would be easily lost thus why not indulge and allow Bayler to his plaything after. Yet that was not how it worked out. Vez was too skilled at reading them and they remained too convinced in her incapableness to reconsider their strategies. She had tripled her coin in the matter of four rounds, much to their discontent.

"This little ones full of surprises," Bayler laughed after losing another hand and deciding to back out of game play; he wasn't overly concerned for he was more interested in her company after. Yet the others at the table were less pleased.

"Where did you say you were from?" the man across from her asked while reshuffling the cards before another round. He seemed to have some authority in the group and was more interrogative than others who just wanted to regain their losses.

"I didn't," Vez replied bluntly, obviously disinterested in giving details.

"You are not new to this, but I don't believe we've seen you around these parts before," he added suspiciously.

"You haven't," she replied again curtly, afterwards drinking the last of her mug of ale, still not desiring to give him any more information despite him wanting her to.

"A mystery," Bayler said unconcerned, while ordering another round of ale for him and his new lady friend by raising him hand, "I like that."

After the next round she decided it was enough for the night. Her coin had grown a respectable amount, but it wasn't extraordinarily ostentatious for a newcomer, she thought. She hoped to forgo any complications. Gathering her coin she said sarcastically, "Now that I've gathered my coin, I'll leave you to gather what you have left of your dignity. It was a pleasure, gentlemen," she nodded courteously before leaving.

Their eyes shifted amongst themselves as she left the table, but Bayler calmed them, silently eluding that he would take care of it - meaning he would give her similar treatment as all newcomers who take the tables a little too masterfully; a forced tax on their profits.

Vez left the smoked filled room, ascended the stairs and made her way through the tavern and out the door into the fresh cool air of the darkened street. Yet Bayler was close behind her and grabbed her arm, "Not so fast little one," he said pulling her back, "I can't just let you leave now."

"And you were so close to being a perfect gentleman," she said mockingly before turning towards him, her tone shifting to one more serious as she spoke in her face, "Remove your hand, or see it removed from your arm indefinitely."

He laughed slightly, "You are a rough one," he said boldly placing his hand on her waist in an attempt at an embrace, "I can work with that."

"Work with this," she said as she took the hand he had on her and brought it and herself behind his back; after tightening her hold on him, surprising him with her strength and his inability to get lose, she whispered in his ear, "You have two choices. Let me walk away, leaving the pockets and egos of you and your friends slightly damaged, or I dislocate your arm and then walk away." When no answer was made, she added discomfort by twisting his arm closer to the popping point.

"Alright alright," he squeaked out, "You can go!"

"You are a very reasonable man, Bayler," she said as if a parent to a child before easing her grip and stepping away from him. She then threw him a coin after retrieving it from her purse, "For the drinks." Through instinct, he caught the coin she had thrown, though if judged by his demeanor he appeared shocked by the occurrence, having never been dismissed by a lady in that way before.

Vez was not convinced he wouldn't retrieve his friends and follow her so she took an alternate path from where she came in, winding her way farther into the Dim Quarters before circling back around to the upper levels of the city. The dark alleyways were somewhat quiet, most inhabitants in the taverns rather than loitering in the streets, yet her Elf ears picked up on a disturbance which concerned her, a young woman screaming, "No, don't, please stop!" She moved into a darkened alleyway, her eyes witnessing a struggle taking place between a young woman and man. As soon as she saw the man hit the woman across the face sending her to the ground, she raced towards them, quickly grabbing the man by the collar and throwing him against the wall. The front of the woman's gown had been ripped, alerting Vez to the true nature of the confrontation. A second later, the man had pulled a knife from his pocket, swinging it towards his attacker, but Vez grabbed his wrist, pulled his arm straight, and used her other hand to break it by hitting it in a direction opposite his elbow joint. It caused the knife to fall from his grasp only to be retrieved by her in mid fall. He collapsed against the sidewall in pain. "You fucking broke my arm!" he screamed at her angrily. With knife in hand Vez quickly went to his throat with it, saying darkly, "You're lucky if I don't use this to break another part of you," as she trailed the knife down his torso to his crotch. His eye went wide, "No, don't, please stop!" he squirmed under her grip.

"Familiar words," Vez replied amused, "Perhaps I shouldn't heed them since you didn't."

"Lady Vez? Is that you?" the voice came from the woman the man assaulted, as she staggered to her feet besides her.

Not pleased to have her name called while the man was still conscious, Vez immediately stopped her toying with him and hit the man across the head, knocking him to the ground. Throwing the old dagger to the side, "Shelbi, I am not even going to ask why you are here," she said perturbed, recognizing the woman was none other than the young house maid who had told her about the Dim Quarters the other day.

"I...I just wanted to," she stumbled on her words, still in shock over what happened, or what could have happened.

"C'mon," Vez interrupted her, "Let's get you out of here," she put her arm around the girl to steady her steps, but before they could even make it from the alleyway, Vez's gambling buddies had discovered them and blocked their path.

Bayler stood alongside the three others she had met at the table that night, "Sorry little one, we don't let newcomers get away that easily," Bayler said causally, though internally he was not pleased by their past altercation for it caused him to lose face in front of his companions.

"That coin that weights your purse, you return it to us and maybe you'll get a chance to play the tables again," the leader stated as ultimatum, for he was even less amused by the girl than his friend.

"And if I refuse?" Vez asked with a small smile.

"I wouldn't do that now," he said, as the largest man to his left starting walking towards them, his intent on taking her coin purse no doubt.

Vez pushed Shelbi aside, adding right back, "And I wouldn't do that," she said engaging the eyes of the man approaching her.

The man went to grab her arm but Vez grab his wrist, and unsuspecting to the man himself, she pulled him downward with enough force that allowed her quickly raised knee to meet the side of his head, sending him to the ground; causing the others to realize she was serious in her threat. The man, disoriented from being clocked in the jaw hard, was on his hands and knees attempting to regain his composure and get back up; spitting blood and a tooth from his mouth in the process. "I suggest you all turn around and call the night a loss," Vez said coolly walking towards the fallen man and placing her foot on his back, forcefully pushing him back down to the cobbled street below, "Unless you like losing teeth like your friend here." She found herself amused at actually offering them a choice, for she would not have in the past.

Yet the three men were unconvinced she could take on them all, and they encircled her. "It seems you left us no choice, little one," Bayler added, playing with his words, "It's a shame, seeing how we now have to mess up that pretty face of yours."

"You know what Bayler," she said, her eyes shifting amongst each man as she considered her fighting strategy, adding, "You talk too much," before punching him in the face. It was enough to invoke the two others to converge on her. At first Vez deflected their blows, toying with them to gauge their abilities. Street thugs, she thought disdainfully at their pathetic skills; not trained in combat, only bullying. She then moved to quickly to knock them out, which would allow her and Shelbi time to escape from the Dim Quarters without being seen or followed.

After sending the two down, the third, who had already lost a tooth in the beginning, found another switch kick to the head in his second attempt to get up in order to aid his friends. This left only Bayler; the one who appeared the most cordial of the bunch had found his way over to Shelbi, who had nervously stood back from the entire confrontation. Bayler had the idea of using the young girl as bate in getting what he and his friends desired - Vez's money. Shelbi tried to run from him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her into an embrace. He didn't count on her struggling to fight him off of her. "Stay still," he yelled, hitting her across the face, but she retaliated by smacking him across the cheek. Being hit again and by another girl, sent Bayler over the edge and his hands went to her throat and he began strangling her.

Vez quickly made her way over to them, grabbing Bayler's shoulder, intending to pull him off of her and to send him the way of the others, only to find him in shock, looking down at his own abdomen, holding the hilt of a dagger whose blade had impaled him. Blood seeped from his mouth and he fell on the ground below, rolling over on his back. Shelbi had defended herself; the girl must have found and pocketed the dagger from her previous assaulter, and she used it in her moment of desperation.

Vez's eyes went wide as she watched Bayler fall, shocked by this development; her demeanor slightly matched that of the woman who did the deed. She went to her knees aside him, his life was draining along with the blood that poured from the middle of his body. A crack of thunder was heard and followed immediately after by rain bursting from the darkness above. The water hit all of them hard, and a red puddle started to grow on the ground beneath them. Vez pulled out the dagger and tossed it aside, afterwards removing her headscarf in order to use it to put pressure on the wound. The man held fear in his eyes, knowing he would die in mere moments.

"Bayler," Vez engaged the man with her eyes, "You need to stay focused," she said providing him hope, even though she knew there was little she could do to save his life.

Bayler looked upon the newly revealed Elf, finding some semblance of peace from the light her aura protruded, "I am...sorry," he said incoherently, wasting his last breaths on words Vez did not want to hear. As his life was extinguished, Vez felt some mild sorrow by his passing, an emotion unbecoming to her, though her grief was also due to the predicament she now found herself in - one quickly brought back to her attention by Shelbi.

"What have I done? I. killed. him," the girl stammered in her own state of shock, her arms wrapped around herself, her body uncontrollably shaking.

Vez's now bloody hands grabbed Shelbi by the forearms, "Look at me," she said strictly, hoping to turn the girl's eyes from Bayler's dead body. "You defended yourself. He would have killed you. You did what you had to, to save your life." Her breathing was heavy, and tears had already begun streaming from her eyes. Vez brought an arm around her, "I am going to get you out of here," she coaxed her to move, stepping through the red water below them. The possible repercussions of being connected to the incident soaked into both of them along with the rain as they made their way out of the Dim Quarters; doing so unnoticed since all others were now avoiding the deluge and staying indoors.

Being the middle of the night, it was completely silent in the lobby of the guest villa, and the two drenched women appeared to have arrived without acknowledgment by the other guests or keepers. Vez continued to hold Shelbi by her side, guiding her towards her room; stopping in a hallway which departed in the opposite direction from where Vez's guest room was located. After Vez released her, hoping to send her to bed, Shelbi stood still, not sure what to do, "Please. Don't leave me alone tonight," she said pathetically, tears which had stopped on their quiet journey now started again, "Not tonight, please Lady Vez."

Vez looked upon the pathetic being; only a child if compared to her in age, her whole life ahead of her, and now one possibly ruined by one night of poor judgment on both their accounts. She acquiesced to her request with a nod, adding, "Alright. Let's get you dry, we don't need you catching a cold."

Acting as caregiver, Vez assisted the girl as a mother would a child, or a maid would a high lady. She helped her undress, got her dry clothes, wrapped her in a blanket, and got a basin filled with clean water and clean linen to tend her wounds. Vez kneeled beside her as she sat in a chair staring blankly ahead, dipping the cloth in water and carefully dotting the brushed cut on her eyebrow. The girl again began sobbing, causing Vez to prop up her chin, as her mind searched for the right words of comfort, which she had little experience of giving.

Shelbi looked upon Vezely's concerned eyes, and began fluently confessing her thoughts, "I should have never gone there. I should have never agreed to have him take me home. I was so stupid."

Her words of self-blame pissed Vez off, "It is not your fault. You are a free woman, you should be able to go wherever you like. And you did nothing wrong with assuming others had decent intentions. No man is allowed to do what was done to you, none."

"But. Then I. Killed that man," she stammered again, still in shock of her action.

"A man who was trying to choke the life from you," Vez replied back solidly, as she looked upon the red bruises all too apparent on her neck, "You did what you had to."

There was also fear in her eyes, "But how do I go on? If anyone finds out, I'll be thrown in jail, or worse!"

"For defending yourself?" Vez scoffed, though slightly afraid of the answer of what they do to women who kill in self-defense. Men of the West had not proven more advanced in terms of gender hierarchies.

"They will never believe me," she said in a panic, "I don't know what to do!"

Vez grabbed her shoulders, turning her attention back to her, "First, you hold your head high. Do not let this event destroy you. Those men do not warrant ruining your life over. You are strong, and proved yourself fearless in the face of horror. Do not think otherwise."

She tried to believe her affirmations, tried to hold it together, but blurted out a moment later, "Please don't tell anyone, Lady Vez. Even that I was in the Dim Quarters tonight, for if the other house maids found out they would assume I am not a virtuous girl. I'd lose my job and I wouldn't have anywhere to go. Please Lady Vez, promise me."

An uncomfortable knot had formed in Vezely's gut, making her uneasy about promising, from where such concern came, she knew not. She looked at her wearily, deciding it best to agree and calm her fears. "No one needs to know."

Vez tucked the young girl into bed and waited by her bedside until she was asleep, standing guard as she heard Legolas had done for her when she was poisoned. It was right before dawn when she decided to leave the young girl's quarters. Her dress was yet damp from the rain which had stopped a few hours ago; it made the air smell clean and the breeze filtering through the open walkways feel crisp and cool to her skin. Vez desired only to be unseen, for her gown's skirt was dyed in red up past her knees, stained by the puddle of Bayler's blood she knelt in. She knew it would not come clean and needed to be disposed of, for the implications of a blood stained dress would cause questioning.

When she made it behind her closed door, she let out a sigh of relief. She removed her coin purse from her pocket and threw in on her desk, causing some of the round metals to escape from its top. The sound and sight stood as reminder of the incident, causing her to curse herself in Easterling for suddenly finding herself in such a precarious situation - all due to a desire to multiple her coin. She pondered if she would have just let her gambling buddies have what they wanted then a young girl's hands would be clean, Bayler would be alive, and any possibility of being implemented in a death charge would have washed away with the rain.

After she had washed her face and hands, she had begun removing the outer layer of her ruined dress when a soft knock came at her door, the footsteps of the one who produced it were imperceptible to her ears thus she knew it was Legolas. The Elf had heard the two women arrive in the middle of the night, for he was up on the veranda listening to the raindrops and admittedly, concerned about Vezely's whereabouts.

"Now is not a good time," Vez said perturbed in Elvish, alerting him that she did indeed know it was him. She then began peeling the inner layer of her damp gown off, hastily finding her new pants and shirt from amongst the clothes she hadn't bothered to fold or put away prior to leaving earlier. After dressing, she wrapped the blood stained clothes into a bundle, throwing them under her bed for the time being.

Legolas replied in a calm manner, "I am checking to see if everything is alright. You returned late, and the young woman you were with, she sounded in trouble."

Vez gritted her teeth, for they were not unseen as hoped, "It is not your concern," she replied steadily, coming closer to the door but of no mind to open it.

Legolas could sense her unsettled emotions: slight nerves, mixed with anger and uncertainty, "If something has happened, I would lend aid."

His polite gesture only reminded her of the prior evening's conversation. His words, _if I would have known,_ filtered again through her head. She scoffed slightly. Leaning her back against the door, knowing he was directly on the other side; she was invisibly turning her back on him. She queried sarcastically, "Now knowing the true nature of my past, you would lend aid? I doubt that."

Legolas closed his eyes and placed the palm of his hand on the door itself, as if he knew she leaned against the other side. Part of him felt her reply was childish, for he was simply displaying his concern, yet another part of him was wounded by her words, as he was wounded by her overt disdain of his presence earlier that day. He knew he had caused this strife by turning away from her when he said he would not. "We have not finished our conversation, thus I do not yet understand the true nature of your past," he said cautiously, hoping to reiterate that he still wanted to converse with her so he could understand.

"It was finished, and you left conceding not to understand," Vez reminded him sharply, for she had provided him enough details, even uncomfortable ones that he demanded she give, and she tried wholeheartedly to explain her changed position, yet he walked away.

"I left because there was much I had not expected to hear," he explained, adding, "I needed..."

"Time," Vez finished his sentence, turning and talking at the door itself, "Time to reconsider our relationship."

He didn't reply, for it was what he needed, for he felt deceived into loving her and uncertain they could have a future together, but it was his head, not his heart that needed time. His heart belonged to her, regardless of her past, regardless of the troubles their future held. "Vezely," he said softly, pressing his forward against the door, hope apparent in his plea, "Please open the door so I can explain."

Vez stepped back from the door, crossing her arms and committing mentally to not pull it open. But after a moment of silence, she noted perhaps he did desire to reconcile what they had, and her heart ached to have it so. So she answered him, with a tone as soft and hopeful as his, "My door still remains unlocked to you," giving him choice to make the next move.

A small smile formed on Legolas's face after hearing her words, for her giving him leave to enter her quarters as she did the first day they came to the villa, a time when no strife existing between them. He grabbed the handle, turning the knob when a small bevy of guards were heard marching down the hallway, led by Faramir, who personally hailed him.

"Lord Legolas, is Lady Vez in her quarters?" he asked authoritatively, his voice also alerting Vezely inside. By the sound of the footsteps and the clank of metal, she knew Faramir was not alone, but with guards. She gritted her teeth and cursed in Easterling tongue, knowing all too well why they were there.

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ What do you think will happen next? Any predictions? And I hope you like this little twist/cliffhanger. _

_( vezely tumblr dot com )  
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	28. Caged

**Chapter 28 - Caged**

Legolas removed his hand from the doorknob, and turned towards Faramir as he marched closer, his blue eyes querying why the Steward and armed guards would be looking for Vezely as his thoughts strayed to the evening past and her unknown whereabouts. But before he replied to Faramir's question, Vezely had opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway. She stood right next to Legolas, but she didn't acknowledge him; instead her eyes were fixed on Faramir's, watching expectantly as his demeanor became cold when looking upon her.

"Lady Vez," he said curtly, "We need you to come with us."

Vez narrowed her eyes, "Why?" she asked bluntly.

Faramir tilted his head ever so slightly, silently commanding his guards to encircle her, adding as they did, "Your name has been associated with an incident in the Dim Quarters. We ask you come quietly for questioning," he appeared calm.

"My name?" Vez asked skeptically, her eyes keeping attuned to the guards positioning themselves nearby, "And this warrants accompaniment by your friends?"

"What is this incident you refer to, Lord Faramir?" Legolas asked politely, as he noted perhaps he was the only person there confused.

Faramir's gaze did not leave Vezely's when he explained, "Two men were found in an alleyway last night in the Dim Quarters. One unconscious, his arm broken, the other dead, stabbed in the stomach. After awakening, the unconscious man remembered your name. He claims you broke his arm before knocking him unconscious. It is unlikely you would be mentioned at all in such a place if you were not there."

Vez knew Shelbi's blurting of her name before knocking her attempted rapist unconscious would come back to haunt her. She replied nonchalantly, not letting any emotions seep through, "I was in the Dim Quarters last night. I may have broken a man's arm. I even may have knocked him unconscious. But you are suggesting I did something else. Say it, go on," she said taunting him to convict her of murder.

Faramir adjusted his stance slightly, the request to accuse her of killing the other man made him uncomfortable for the possible reaction it could garner. He was not convinced Vezely was a cool headed individual, having witnessed her hit a Variag prisoner repeatedly without what he saw as a good cause. Before a reply could be garnered, however, his attention was turned to the guard who had entered Vezely's room and returned to the hallway holding her blood stained dress out to him. "Steward, we found this, hidden under her bed."

Faramir's stern eyes returned to Vezely's, who gritted her teeth and tried to shake off the desire to crack the guard's skull against the wall.

"No Lady Vez," Faramir finally replied to her request, "You say it."

"There must be a mistake," Legolas interjected calmly, even though seeing the dress as evidence and hearing Vez confess to injuring the one man did little for him to see how she couldn't also be responsible for killing the other.

"The mistake is not asking why," Vez said angrily, "You believe I am so base that I would simply murder an individual without due cause."

"From what I know, you do not have a clean record," Faramir replied forthrightly.

"There was another woman involved," Legolas again added his voice, attempting a defense with information not being offered, "That Vezely returned with to the villa last night."

"This is not your concern, Legolas, stay out of it," she responded to him sternly in Elvish so Faramir would not understand; her eyes remained diverted from his, however, she simply could not look at him right now.

"Another woman?" Faramir queried looking from Legolas to Vezely, "Is this so?" He interrogated.

"No, he is mistaken," Vez stated steadily to Faramir, "I was alone."

"Then you admit to it," Faramir responded.

"Yes," Vezely replied, holding her head high, "But the man deserved death."

"That is not for you to decide. We have laws in Minas Tirith and ones that protect life and everyone's right to it. Put her in chains," he ordered the guard next to her.

Vez breathed in deeply, saying with warning through clenched teeth, "Those won't be necessary," watching the guard come closer to her with irons.

"I'm afraid they are," Faramir replied undeterred, unconvinced she wouldn't try anything on the trip to the prison.

Seeing no other choice, except for ones that would land her in worse trouble, Vez succumbed to being chained, getting an unpleasant and unsettling reminder of her past. Faramir commanded his guards, "Take her." The two guards grabbed her roughly by the forearms and coerced her to walk with them down the hallway. Vez remained quiet as they locked her in the back of barred carriage which would transfer her to the second level prisons, the same ones where the prisoners of war were located.

Faramir stayed behind momentarily to engage in conversation with Legolas, who spoke concerned, "Vezely is many things Lord Faramir, but she would not kill without reason. Regardless of her past discretions."

He knew Vezely held meaning to Legolas, so he replied gently, "I promise she will be given a fair prosecution."

_Prosecution_. Legolas was left standing there milling over the word, disbelieving the reality of the situation. Such horrible business typically fell far outside the borders of his kingdom, or all present day Elvendom for that matter. Elves of the Third Age rarely fell prey to committing assault or murder, or any other foul play against their kin. Now he again wondered whether his suspicion about Vezely was correct. Did her corruption run so deep that she could not control herself even now, even with the light of his people returned to her?

Just minutes before he was close to an attempt at reconciling. He would have walked through her door and apologized for turning from her after he said he would not. He would have told her that his heart had not abandoned her. If all had been set right, Legolas had planned to respond to his father's letter that evening, telling him not only that he had heard the call to leave these shores, but that he would be leaving with her by his side, when she could go. Now all was again uncertain. Perhaps she will never be redeemed for she could not make it a few weeks without re-staining her hands. Yet he also wondered why Vezely desired to keep the young woman she returned with last night a secret. He suspected she was the reason for the incident to begin with, or at least that was the conclusion he could make. It made no sense to him, but he made it a point to find out.

* * *

The guards not to politely escorted Vez through the prison grounds, Faramir following them close behind. "Thought you'd appreciate the company," Faramir announced smugly as they brought Vez to a holding cell right next to Remi's; the man stood up upon their entrance, watching the affair curiously.

Once inside the cell, the guards unlatched her iron cuffs before leaving; slamming the door shut and locking it behind them. Outwardly, Vez remained calm and collected, her eyes narrowed on Faramir's, seeping no emotion, but inside her head she was screaming, as memories of her captivity in Dol Guldur were inescapable, gnawing at her insides.

Remi starred at her amused long after the guards and Faramir had left, prompting Vez to reply annoyed, "Wipe that smug look off your face."

"What did you do?" he asked intrigued.

She looked at him briefly, "What didn't I do?" she remarked, trying to brush off her discomfort with sarcasm.

He cracked a half smile, "It must be fate, to have your company again," he spoke assuredly.

"Don't flatter yourself," she said crossing her arms while going to lean against the back wall of the cell.

"Ah, but what else could it be? First, you and I find ourselves reunited at the end of the war, now we share a cell next to each other," he spoke optimistically while pacing slightly in thought over it, making Vez roll her eyes.

"Divinators," Vez said disdainfully of his trade, "They all think they are blessed by the stars because they pretend to know how to read them."

He smirked, "Well, I am one of the thirty-seven still standing," he reminded her of the number of Variags remaining. She didn't reply, her thoughts taking her away for a moment. Noting the discomfort seeping through her cocky demeanor, Remi asked wondering, "Do I make that harsh a company?" He went to the back wall before sitting on the floor and leaning against it, stretching his legs out. "We had some good times, you and I," he noted of their past.

Vez looked over at him, seeing a more neutral demeanor on his face, as if he knew she was uncomfortable being there and wanted to help settle her nerves through more polite conversation. She uncrossed her arms and after a moment sat on the ground as well, "They were okay," she replied unimpressed.

He smiled slightly, "Ah c'mon, you and I in Devonporta, practically got ourselves into worse trouble than we are now."

Vez smirked, amused slightly in remembrance. It was an undercover mission to acquire militia supply documents from a major iron merchant in the area. The resistance hoped to ascertain the locations of shipment ports and the size of shipment orders to deter them later. Vez often went alone on such assignments, but the region was hostile to single woman, and male traders without female servants were not worthy of societal consideration. "You only enjoyed that mission because I had to pretend to be subservient to you."

"That and the outfit you wore," he smirked, for she dressed as one would expect a concubine.

She shook her head, "You continue to remind me why I hit you," she said thinking back to the incident which almost blew their cover. He had gotten too frisky in his acting, thinking his role gave him leeway to put his hands on her inappropriately. She had hit him hard in view of other men, a big mistake in the understandings of the culture.

"It was worth it," he said amused.

"Ha," Vez scoffed, remembering Remi had to explain under the threat of dismissal that their relationship was intentionally rough because he liked it that way. She added with disdain, "Devonporta is lucky. If I had marched through there with my legions, I would have destroyed them simply for their disgusting customs."

Remi laughed slightly, not disapproving of her malevolent thoughts, making Vez appreciate being able to make such remarks about her past freely without much concern for her present character, something she couldn't do around Legolas who might see it as condoning what she did. Thinking of Legolas further twisted her gut; their relationship was over, she thought, for she had just proven her inability to redeem herself. She knew not what would have been the outcome this morning if he they had engaged in conversation; whether they could have reconciled their differences and moved on in their relationship. Now, she thought perhaps she would not see him again. How could he still care for her or even desire to look upon her when it appeared she remained her past self; that she couldn't go a few weeks without causing trouble. The most she could hope for was a quiet banishment from Gondor; to return to Rhun with her men and not be seen from again. At least that is what she would bargain for if they did not accept killing that man in self-defense as good enough reason.

She knew not where her compulsion to protect Shelbi came from. She did admit to feeling responsible for the incident, for not giving the gamblers her coin and instigating a fight, and then being too involved in that fight to notice Bayler's whereabouts. Shelbi's words, about her life being ruined by this incident rang true to Vezely's understanding of culture in the West. She was so young, Vez thought woefully, and she deserved a chance for a better life than working the streets or serving drinks at filth infested taverns in the Dim Quarters; or worse, to be locked away because the men of this city care little for girls who kill in self-defense. If she could divert that fate, shouldn't she?

Vez had become unnervingly silent, her thoughts taking over that she did not reply when Remi brought up another topic to discuss. His words seemed to fade into the background noise of the prison. She had brought her knees up, clasping her arms around them and resting her head on the back wall appearing cool and unfazed, but her heart was breaking within her. Why she once held hope for her own blissful future made her feel foolish. If she was lucky, she would return to Rhun, do what she could to help its people, and then quietly fade from existence. To have hoped for a better future was selfish, considering all the wrong she had done in her life.

Remi attempted to break her silence, but to no effect. To him, she appeared to be meditating; knowing that Elves did not sleep. He couldn't help but wonder about her thoughts, but he would never have expected much of them were occupied by matters of the heart.

* * *

After asking several of the guest villa's workers, Legolas discovered one house maid had not reported for work that morning; her boss being told that she was sick. Sensing the Elf's urgency, they told him where her room was located. He knocked on her door, but no one answered, yet he could hear her movement inside. "Lady Shelbi, my name is Legolas. I am a guest of Lord Aragorn," he spoke at the door, hoping she would listen to him, "If you would be so kind as to speak with me about what happened last evening. I know you returned late here and with Lady Vez by your side."

There was still no answer. Legolas continued. "Please Lady Shelbi, she has confessed to killing a man and was taken by Lord Faramir this morning. If there is any information you have which could aid in her defense..."

The door unlatched and opened, and the young girl stood in view of the Elf who stood shocked by the view of her bruised face and neck, her eyes red from crying, "They took her?" she asked concerned.

"She is being held in the second level prisons," Legolas sad carefully, noting the girls emotional instability. "What happened to you last night?"

She shook her head, "I can't talk about it," she said sorrowfully.

"She aided you, did she not?" he asked, prodding her on the subject.

"She did, she saved me, but then," she stalled, looking aside, "I can't talk about it. I can't be involved. I'm sorry." She quickly shut the door on him, returning to the inner confines of her room.

"She needs your help, Lady Shelbi," Legolas spoke up, "If you could tell Lord Faramir what happened, then..."

"I'm sorry, I cannot help," she called back adamantly, causing Legolas to query whether he should have Aragorn intervene in the situation, or if the young woman truly had a good reason to stay quiet, as Vez also desired not to mention her.

"Lady Shelbi," Legolas desired to leave her with one more appeal, "Lady Vez and I are to be married. If you could help her in any possible way, I would be indebted to you." He waited a few more moments before leaving, not knowing if she would reconsider.

* * *

"It does not add up," Legolas said concerned in discussion with Aragorn, "Vezely would not simply kill a man without reason."

"This young woman, she appeared badly hurt?" Aragorn asked for confirmation.

"As one would after they are roughly handled by someone with mal intentions," Legolas said concerned, "She holds a great fear of intervening, but I have no doubt her story would explain why that man is dead."

"Perhaps I can persuade her to do so," Aragorn said calmly, deciding to go talk with the young house maid. But when the two showed up at her door, she was nowhere to be found; she had disappeared from the villa, letting none know of her whereabouts.

"She will come back," Aragorn said assuredly, placing a hand on Legolas's shoulder to calm his worry.

"And if she does not. What is to be Vezely's fate?" he asked uncertain.

"I believe as you do that this man's death was not intended. Yet I am also beholden to the city's laws and Faramir is yet the city's protector. I will talk with him and hopefully her fate will not be grim," he said encouragingly.

* * *

Footsteps coming down the hallway jerked Vez from her thoughts. As Faramir entered their view, Remi remarked, "Yakonva," a word in their language meaning an individual whose sole power comes from heritage. A disrespectful term reflecting the disdain many in Rhun had for the concept of kings and lords which were so prevalent in the West.

Vez smirked, for her impression of him was not much different at this point. The Steward was followed closely behind by none other than Shelbi's attacker, who appeared to be acting completely opposite to how he was the evening before.

"Is this her?" Faramir asked the man, coming upon her cage, not actually paying any attention to her inside.

"That's her, she was wearing a headscarf last night though," he said nervously, protecting his broken arm and hiding behind Faramir, not desiring to be in complete view.

Vez's eyes narrowed on him, she stood and walked slowly towards the cell's barred door, as if stalking the man as an animal to its prey.

The man added hastily to Faramir, "Can we go now?"

Faramir noted the man's fear, taking it as a sign of Vez's previous aggression against him, "You can go," he said, allowing the man to hustle off in the direction they came. Vez refrained from making a comment, though she desired to speak of his foul deeds, his attempted rape of a young woman, yet doing so would require discussing Shelbi's involvement.

"You place fear in the hearts of men," Faramir stated, looking upon her.

"Someone needs to," she replied bluntly, holding her head high.

Unsurprised by her reply he added judiciously, "You will have a hearing tomorrow. We handle things civilly here," condescendingly implying that her own culture did not, "You will be given a chance to defend yourself before a verdict is given."

"I want this handled privately," Vez insisted back, "I would accept punishment if dictated by King Elessar," she knew Aragorn was not yet crowned, but felt she could swing his title around to deject Faramir's authority even slightly.

"I will consider it," he said, though Vezely did not think he would. He left and she would return to her position on the ground, wanting nothing more than to be on the other side of the bars and away from the White City if she could, not looking back on its inhabitants.

"A Balchoth warrior willing to accept punishment from a Western king," Remi remarked disdainfully overhearing the conversation, "You have grown soft."

Vez was overtly displeased that his words echoed Öldür's, who would often say the same thing when she appeared to use less violent tactics. Yet as prior, she had her reasons and gave a truthful reply, "I am not in a position to do otherwise. My only goal is to return to Rhun with you and the others remaining within these walls. My pride need not deter me."

Remi considered for a moment her words. Perhaps, he thought, she was a true leader, willing to make sacrifices for the good of the men. He supposed he could respect that, though it presented a different image of her than he'd known while in the resistance. She cared little of anything but herself then.

As the hours passed, Vez tried to remain calm, but the walls felt as if they were closing in on her, suffocating her. She kept her eyes closed, slowing her breathing to relax, but memories of Dol Guldur haunted her - the darkness, the hunger, the cold, the loneliness. She survived that ordeal because she held on to anger mixed with pride; because she was determined not to succumb to her enemy in that way. She was a Balchoth warrior; she would not die as a caged animal. But now, she had no enemy to hate, none to plot revenge against. How does one hold up such walls without these strengths, as she saw them? Vez knew her mind was overreacting; for her imprisonment would be temporary. They wouldn't hold her prisoner forever and at least, the following day, if there was a hearing, she would have reprieve from her cell. But her mind cared little for being rational, and the darkness of nightfall only added to her anxiety. Thinking of Legolas only brought her sorrow. She felt guilty for accepting his love, and putting him through such a period of confusion and now hurt. He did not deserve such turmoil; he is too good and kind an Elf to inherit her constant troubles. Perhaps, she even thought, this whole ordeal is for the better. Maybe it would prompt Legolas to sail West, not needing to wait and fret over her uncertain return. There in Valinor, he could live in bliss amongst his kin and their love would be nothing more than a forgotten memory. He deserved such relief from this life in Middle Earth, from the centuries of peril in his home forest, and the destruction and death that surrounded him in this war. He deserved peace, something she knew she could never provide him.

* * *

That evening, Legolas stared at his father's letter, re-reading the words:

_I am not and have never been a father who sways trusted son from own path, but I do seek to place warning in your head for darkness that could follow such unconsidered desires._

He laughed uncomfortably at the word "unconsidered," especially since he felt ever since he met Vezely he has been considering their relationship; milling over his initial attraction to her, whether it was simply pity or her odd differences that peaked his curiosity. Upon discovering it was something more and that she held similar feelings, he had to consider whether he truly desired changing his life's stance as a detached warrior and enter into a partnership. Other concerns, from the war's uncertain outcome, the unexpected call of the sea, to Vezely's shaky redemption, all motioned more consideration. If anything, he had considered more and understood deeply the darkness his father spoke of. But a warning in one's head does not change the feelings in one's heart. His father would encourage him, no doubt, to sail away from these shores and let time mend a heart put asunder. He may even further encourage seeking a relationship with Lady Adele, to try and replace those longings with ones new. But neither for him would suffice for he had already given Vezely his heart. If darkness, also in the form of familial and social complications was truly his future, he would accept it, for wouldn't a broken heart bring worse?

* * *

Vezely's hearing that morning would be private, per her request to Faramir and with Aragorn in attendance. Legolas came to Vezely's cell alone, before they would escort her to the hearing, desiring to exchange words in private.

He had not expected Remi to be in the cell next to her. Upon seeing the golden haired Elf, neatly dressed in blue robes, the man stood up and walked to the front of his cell, smugly starring him down as if sizing him up to fight. He distrusted Elves, as many men in Rhun did, knowing little about their culture or history. They were only known as immortal beings that would rather make peace than war; a concept laughable to Variags and many other warring tribes. Some enclaves in Rhun even viewed them as gods, or demons depending. For some reason, despite Vez's Elvish appearance, her Easterling manners tended to gain her a pass from many of these associations. Even Remi often forgot about her race.

"This one's prettier than you," Remi mocked in Easterling to Vez, hoping to gain her amusement. Legolas was staring back at him with equal intensity, his previous behavior around Vez being enough of a reason to dislike him.

Vez shook her head at the remark. "Stand back Remi, he is more dangerous than you think." She then switched her tongue to Elvish, asking her visitor perturbed. "Why are you here?" It broke his glare and that of Remi's who had not heard her speak in that tongue before. Though while Legolas turned his attention to her, her eyes remained cast away from his for fear of seeing his true emotions.

"I apologize that you are moved to ask that question," he said with regret in his voice, "For the other night I left you when I said I would not."

She stood up but remained turned from him, "I should have expected that reaction," Vez confided steadily, crossing her arms, "I was foolish to think telling you more of my past would bring confidence rather than disapproval. And I have already disproven the cause I claimed to hold. If you came here to break final words between us, know I do not desire to hear them nor require they be spoken."

Legolas realized she believed he was there to properly end their relationship. "Vezely," he interrupted her, hoping she would turn her eyes to him, "That is not why I came."

She slowly did as he desired, "They why?" she asked forcefully but with hidden trepidation.

The fear in her voice caught him off guard, "To tell you, my heart has not abandoned you." The unexpected revelation brought confusion to her demeanor; she searched his eyes discovering they still held the love she had known. He added with care, "It never can."

After a moment she responded, regret present in her voice, "If this is true, I am so sorry for the despair I continue provide you. You need to let me go, Legolas. You should sail West and be at peace, you deserve better than this," adding adamantly, "Than me."

Legolas shook his head, and placed his hand on the bars wishing the barrier was not there, "I cannot do as you wish, even if I desired to."

Disregarding that the two were having an emotional conversation, the guard had come and unlocked the door, entering her cell to put her in cuffs. She didn't resist as the cuffs were locked in place; instead she starred listless at his blue eyes, hating herself for the choices she had made that ended her there now. The guard pulled her arm, forcing her to walk with him.

Remi noted the delicacy of the conversation, the fear and sorrow apparent in Vezely's voice and now painted on her face. He disliked the effect this Elf had on Vezely's typical cocky attitude and strong demeanor; he softened her. He glared at Legolas as he left; a hateful glare the Elf returned momentarily as he followed the guard down the corridor.

"Ah, there she is," Gandalf's voice hit Vezely's ears unexpectedly after she entered the room where she was to be sentenced, "And unnecessarily bound," he chastised a moment later.

She had little more than a few seconds to register who was there before running towards her was none other than Shelbi. The young maid clutched onto her as if a hurt child to her mother, sobbing into her shoulder. "Oh Lady Vez. I am so sorry for asking you to keep this secret. I told them everything."

Vez looked noticeably uncomfortable at being clung to in such a manner, her eyes querying what exactly they knew.

"I came upon this little one heading away from the villa and urged her to come this morning," Gandalf explained, as one of the guards was directed by Faramir to unlatch Vezely's cuffs.

Shelbi looked up at Vez, saying sorrowfully, "I couldn't let you take responsibility."

"We know you did not kill that man, that you even tried to save him, and the reason behind the assault of the other," Faramir spoke judiciously, "You wanted to protect her."

She held Shelbi by her side defensively and narrowed her eyes on the Steward, "I still do. What is to be done with her?"

Aragorn politely interjected, "She will not be charged and her job will be under my protection. She was brave. That man intended fatal harm," for Shelbi's bruises appeared as one would expect from her story.

Vez accepted these terms with a small nod. Shelbi then left her side and returned to her mother, who she left the villa to stay with; with her daughter in her arms the mother spoke to Vez, tears in her eyes, "Thank you for protecting my child. If I could repay you for it somehow."

Vez replied bluntly, appearing unmoved by the gesture, "That is not necessary."

The mother thanked her again and she watched as the two left the room, leaving her alone with Faramir, Gandalf, Aragorn, and Legolas, who yet stood by her side.

"I am no martyr," Vez spoke to them, holding her head high, not desiring praise for her act or apologies for her imprisonment, "I did what I did because she is young, and I have seen too many girls punished for incidents outside of their control. I did not trust this city was any different in handling such cases."

"A regrettable truism," Aragorn added, "One I do not desire to be so here."

Faramir agreed in reflection, "As well as the incident itself. Corruption has overrun the Dim Quarters for far too long and we should seek measures to clean it up..." Vezely refrained from making any other remarks as the two men discussed briefly this business further. She desired to respectfully keep out of the city's affairs, as well as out of the Dim Quarters for the time being, despite desiring more coin.

Gandalf approached her side, saying slyly, "You are too good a liar my dear. An unusual trait for an Elf, but an asset in your case," having known of her tasks in the resistance, "Try to keep out of trouble."

Vez smirked slightly, watching him leave with Aragorn and Faramir following behind him. She exchanged a brief glare with the Steward, knowing their relationship would remain tense. This left her alone with Legolas, who had heard Shelbi's story before going to her cell.

"You knew?" Vez queried, her eyes searching the now empty room, as she crossed her arms appearing uncomfortable.

"I did, but even if I did not, I would have spoken the same words to you," he replied carefully, coming closer to her.

Vez closed her eyes momentarily, appearing upset to hear this, "You should still let me go. We are not well-suited for each other."

"My father believes the same," he revealed carefully, now standing in front of her, her eyes inquisitive on his, "A letter arrived two days ago. He desires I marry another, to honor a new alliance between our kingdom and Lothlorien."

"It is for the better," she appeared strong, though internally it pained her to hear of his father's rejection and his intentions for his son to wed another, "I am only trouble."

He could see through her facade; her attempt to do what she thought was best for him, even if her heart desired otherwise. "You are trouble," he agreed forthrightly, "You are stubborn, unpredictable, completely uncouth," lecturing her caused her to narrow her eyes on him, "And being with you will cause me grief with my father, and amongst my kin. But being without you," he voice softened, "That is grief I could not bear."

Vezely felt her heart jolt; she shook her head, "Legolas," her voice cracked, thinking what he said could not be true, "You do not mean that. The other night you..."

Legolas grabbed her forearms and pulled her into an embrace, something his heart desired to do that night when she revealed the cruel aspects of her past, but his head could not move past them. "I should not have left you," he finished her sentence softly in her ear, apologizing for his behavior which he knew grieved her, though she would not admit it.

Vezely allowed herself to be pulled into him and with a single breath all resistance she held onto was gone. She uncrossed her arms, enclosing them around him, and she buried her head into his shoulder. Unexpectedly, tears fell from her eyes. He was surprised by this, for it was not something he had witnessed of her strong character before, but he said nothing as she silently cried. He simply held her, his heart needing her return embrace just as much.

* * *

_**A/N: Ended on a soft note since I've been cruel the last couple chapters. ;)**_

_**You may have noticed a new avatar for the story. I want to thank artist lika-143 for her work. She captured Vezely's image perfectly. A full version of this pic and more of lika-143's art can be seen on the tumblr and her Deviant art account. [vezely tumblr DOT com ]**_

_**And thank you for your reviews! They always make me super happy to receive and read. Much love!**_


	29. Contentment

**Chapter 29 - Contentment**

Vezely's tears subsided, and she realized ashamedly that she let them fall so freely. She said sardonic, her face still against his shoulder, "I am acting as a child."

"Even the eldest among us cries," Legolas said quietly, hoping she would not feel embarrassed, he looked upon her with a small smile of encouragement.

"It is not becoming for someone as myself," she said concerned, straightening her posture.

"I will not tell anyone," he replied chivalrously, hoping such a statement would amuse her. And it did, a smile cracked through her serious demeanor and she nodded to accept his promise.

They stood silently looking into each other's eyes, uncertain the right words to say for much had been left unspoken between them. They loved each other, this much was certain, but complications still plagued their relationship, and now in regards to Legolas's father and kin, new problems loomed on the horizon.

"Will you permit me to take you away from the city for a day?" Legolas inquired in a slightly too polite manner. He had desired since returning to Minas Tirith to take her on a day trip to the nearby forests of Ithilien, to be in the comfort of nature since the city felt cold to him.

"Away? Now?" She asked surprised for it was an unexpected request, but noting he was serious she agreed, "Alright, I permit you."

He offered her his arm and she slid her hand around it in order to be escorted from the prison, her eyes now dry but mind still feeling uncomfortable from the whole day spent locked in the cell. They were silent on the way to the stables, with Legolas mounting the horse first, offering Vezely a hand after. She had little trouble climbing up behind him this time, since she was no longer wearing the Gondorian dress as before but her Rhun-style trousers. She held onto him tighter than she needed to, still desiring his warmth against her and still wanting to breathe in his scent. Legolas closed his eyes briefly as she first did this, joyful to feel needed in such a way.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as they trotted out of the stables and into the streets to descend to the first level.

"To the forests of Ithilien," he said to her, turning his head to the side, "I desire to see them with my eyes and to walk amongst them with you."

"Why is that?" she asked, gauging there was extended purpose to his trp.

He smiled at her, realizing she was not one who gave much allowance for surprises, "You will see," he preferred to leave her without an answer.

The white horse ran swiftly through the plains crossing several streams and riverbeds, small glens and meadows, before coming closer to their destination. Vezely rested behind him, enjoying the fresh spring air on her face and the added warmth of the sun on her back. Being free of the cage she was in and the city that put her there did much to mend her prior discomfort. The horse's gallop slowed upon the edge of the forest before entering under the green canopy in a quickened trot.

Legolas instantly felt calmed once surrounded by trees, desiring even more to be amongst them while in the White City. He hoped to find a glen where they could spend the afternoon talking and thus had the horse follow a small stream to find its source. Vez noticed his shift in emotions, and his wonderment, as he looked around at the scenery as they rode. Perhaps, she thought, the forest soothed her internally as well, though she was not accustomed to being in them in Rhun.

They stopped in a place where their horse could graze for the day. Vezely dismounted, followed after by Legolas, who took her hand and guided her to the edge of the brook. "Much of this forest has been ravaged by decades of war, but there is still beauty here, waiting to be found," he said enchanted by their surroundings.

Vezely smiled at his wonderment, for he seemed as a joyful child in this place. "The war is over, perhaps it will not be so difficult to discover in the near future," she replied considering, stopping beside him.

He smiled back at her, telling her his plans, "I discussed with Aragorn the possibility of tending this forest back to life, after returning home for a time."

"You should, if it brings you joy," she said pleasantly, watching as a duo of birds flew past them chirping. A moment later she added regretfully, "I heard from Gandalf about Mirkwood, it is as I feared," in regards to much of it being burnt down.

Legolas looked upon her, his eyes full of conviction, "But not to be mourned. The Shadow has been rescinded. Mirkwood will again be as it was when it was called Greenwood the Great, when my father and grandfather entered under its leaves, and when I was a child able to run through it without fear."

"Time heals everything," Vezely said quietly, walking closer to the edge of the brook, wondering if she would ever truly be free of the Shadow which ruled her life for so long.

"It does," Legolas said softly, noting her contemplation, "But even a short amount of time can change everything. We have not known each other for very long, Vezely, but already our lives are changed by our meeting each other again."

Vezely looked down at the water, suddenly desiring to apologize for the change she brought to his life since it seemed sadly less beneficial than what their relationship had done for her. But he didn't let her despair and took her hand, pulling her along to walk with him as he talked about the Two Trees of Valinor, and tale of Thingol who was motivated in the Great Journey by a desire to see the light of these trees again, until he found contentment in the light of Melian the Maia's face. He had not told her a story from Elvish history for some time, and Vez realized how much she enjoyed listening to him, for he certainly had the gift of oration.

"...They were from different worlds, as we are, and they found contentment in each other," he said taking both her hands.

She was surprised how he turned this love story of old into tale about them, "Can we truly find contentment?" she asked skeptical. She let go of his hands to sit down on a nearby grassy knoll, stretching her legs out below her. She looked over at him, hoping he would sit beside her. He obliged, taking her hand in his once he sat, his eyes inquisitive as she asked concerned, "You said something, 'if you have known' about my past, then you would not have..." She stopped unsure how to word it.

"I would not have fallen in love with you," he replied carefully, knowing it was a painful thing to have said, "One cannot know what would have been."

"I know, and I do not wish to predict us being on divergent paths, but I do not want you to think I deceived you, that I intentionally hid my past from you or acted differently to gain only favorable opinion. It is true what Gandalf said, I am a good liar, and I spent the past eighty years often pretending to be someone else. On missions for the resistance, I would take on different names, different pasts. It was necessary to be anyone but myself. The Blue Wizards believed I would find myself coming West since I could no longer hide from my past or my blood. I had to be Vezely, but knew not who that was anymore."

"I could sense you did not," he said with a small smile, "And it only made me more curious."

"You tried so hard to figure me out," she smirked slightly in remembrance.

He looked upon her warmly, "And even now you remain an anomaly."

She laughed, "And you remain just as odd to me," she revealed, lightly brushing her fingertips across the palm of his hand.

"Do I?" he inquired playfully, liking the sensation of her touch, "How so?"

She remained looking at his palm while trailing her fingers across it, saying carefully, "You still look upon me without hate. You still touch me, knowing that..."

He grabbed her hand firmly, causing her to stop her speech and look up at him, "Vezely," he spoke her name concerned for her emotions.

"I am ashamed," she added worried, "That I can never be someone properly suited for you in the eyes of your father and kin, or in your eyes," he shook his head though knew he couldn't deny her words, "And it angered you to hear the details of my past."

"It did. I did not expect an Elf to be capable of such cruelty," he replied truthfully, "And that you seemed unaffected, even by the harm done to you."

"It is because I refuse to be destroyed by it," she said adamantly, "It only fuels my future, as it always has. I suppose that was what I wanted to convey in sharing those details. That I have changed because my cause has changed."

"I believe in your convictions. You were prepared to ruin your restored reputation and sacrifice your freedom to save Lady Shelbi from possible injustice," he said encouragingly, realizing still it surprised him.

Vez shook her head, denying its importance, "I felt responsible for the girl's fate. The man who almost killed her was after me. I further put her in harm's way because I refused to give them my coin."

"Maybe so," he said carefully, "But taking the blame was a selfless act." She appreciated his words though she did not desire praise. "You have already done some good in your life, Vezely, I know it will continue."

"I am glad you believe so," she said hopeful. "But it is more than my convictions that offers concern," adding, "You will continue to find constant reminders that I am not of your world. I cannot deny this part of my character nor can you deny that the culture I was raised in appears uncouth and unsettling to Elvish eyes. Only six years of my life were spent under the leaves of Mirkwood. It perhaps gives me advantage in understanding your viewpoint, and a realization that my own is far removed," she looked down, "I do not know if we can reconcile this, despite our love."

"You speak not of us, but of my kin," he said knowingly, lifting her chin up gently, "I will always try not to judge you by these standards again. And I will handle my father and all others who might question our relationship. I only ask you be yourself."

She smiled slightly, adding what she believed were his thoughts, "Myself, but on my best behavior."

"Perhaps you should not go out gambling in the middle of the night," he added with a raised eyebrow.

"Fair enough," she said, her smile beaming.

"It is good to see you smile," Legolas noted, glad to be back aside her, "My heart could not take your contempt."

"I never hated you. My anger only hid my sorrow for having disappointed you," she confessed quietly. "I did not intend for our talk to lead in the direction it did, or into matters that puts into question our union. Legolas," she was unsure how to broach the subject again, "About the other men."

He looked away uncomfortable by it being mentioned, "You do not need to speak of it again."

"I am sorry it makes you uncomfortable, but I need you to know," she said, gently turning his face to hers with the hand he held there, "I have never given my heart to anyone. I have never fallen in love. And I have never cared for another as I care for you," her eyes were full of fear, "I yet desire to be your partner. I want to sleep in your bed. I do not want you to believe I think any less of their importance because of my past indiscretions."

He noted her worry, he took her hand away from his face and held it to his chest, "You did not know of the custom of our people so it was wrong of me to have placed those expectations on you," he said sincerely.

"But they are expectations," she said carefully.

He could not deny that they were and that this jeopardized the sanctity of their union, for a marriage to be sanctioned each had to be free of any other involvements. Such acts were literally unheard of in Elvendom. Only in the province of Men did they exist and even there a woman with such involvements would not be marriageable. Legolas attempted not to let his worries seep through but she knew he was struggling with it.

She added concerned, "Perhaps as I suggested before, it is best not to divulge our relationship to those who arrive for the coronation. To keep it a secret so you can avoid such troubles and when I am gone, well," she did not finish this sentence for it pained her to think of leaving him.

"I am not a good liar as you are, Vezely. My father will know even if I deny it," he said steadily, "And I do not desire to deny it. These expectations matter not."

"You are not a good liar," she smirked, seeing through his last words. "I know you are concerned about your honor," she knew how much emphasis he had put on having a proper courtship with her, now perhaps he even thought all of it was for folly. She looked up at him, saying his thoughts, "We will not be accepted by your kin, at least not officially."

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"It does," Vezely queried, "Not for my own reputation, but for yours."

"Like I said," he tried to assure her, "I will handle my father and my kin."

She knew it was unresolved, but she nodded to show she accepted his mission. Yet he had not given his true thoughts as to her past. She thought out loud, asking quietly, "Do you believe me? That I hold our relationship as important..."

He quieted her with his fingertips, "I do. And I should not be jealous of those before but..."

She looked at him surprised, after he removed his fingers, she said, "I would not think you have any reason to be jealous," internally wondering what it would be like to make love with the one who also had her heart. She then added considering, "You have already proven yourself a formidable warrior."

He lifted his eyebrows, "That matters?"

"Of course," she said boldly, "At Helm's Deep, you certainly peaked my interest. I would not desire you as I do if it did not." He blushed noticeably, causing her to wonder, "Is it improper?"

"No," he stammered, "Just to speak so freely of one's desires as you do."

Vezely shook her head, "The lords and ladies of the West are too proper. Having to extensively court each other, finding every excuse not to..."

Before she could finish her sentence, he had pressed his lips lightly upon hers, gently kissing her, his hand lightly touching her jaw line. He pulled away to look upon her, she was surprised by his act, as he expected, but he was not expecting her to reciprocate as she did. She pulled him in by his collar, kissing him gently at first but with a building intensity. She leaned into him, gently pushing him onto his back with herself positioned on top of him. Her hands were cupping his face, his roamed down her back. She pulled her lips away, and looked lovingly upon him, the tips of their noses touching. He was surprised she had pushed him down on the grass like that, and that he did not want her to stop; his thoughts going against his convictions for a proper courtship.

With a coy smile she politely moved herself off of him, lying on her side, her head propped up on her elbow, knowing the previous position was a bit intrepid since their physical relations have been mild. Their faces were still close, his arm yet around her. She trailed her hand from his cheek to rest on his chest, running her fingers over his tunic's silver clasp, smiling at him as she did, "I am not apologizing for my boldness, for I wanted to lay down with you on the grass," she said curious of his reply.

"I would never ask for such an apology," he said, pulling her closer to him and she rested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. As he looked above to the light streaming in through the canopy, he felt completely content as did she. He said quietly, "Vezely, we can find contentment." She nuzzled closer to him as a silent means of agreeing.

They spent the rest of the day cuddled next to each other, content to listen to the sounds of the forest and breathe the scent of its woods. They would ride back to Minas Tirith at dusk; darkness haven fallen on the city as they ascended back to the sixth level. Each felt renewed by the trip, as it also renewed their relationship. Vezely requested they return to Ithilien again before long, and for Legolas, there was nothing he wanted more.

* * *

"You do not have to accompany me," Vezely remarked as she walked briskly by Legolas's side through the marketplace to the Rhunic specialty shop she had visited several days prior. She was returning there to purchase sadar oil for the Variag ritual to be performed by Remi that afternoon. Adding, "Remi is not trustworthy, but I do not believe him dangerous."

Legolas had desired to go with Vezely and her former resistance partner to the outside fields when performing the ritual. He had no trust for the man around her, and tried to play it off as simple curiosity, "I think you would prefer I accompany you rather than one of Faramir's guards," noting his undoubtedly correct belief that the Steward wouldn't deem their party of two worthy of being unaccompanied.

"True," she smiled, stopping in front of the small shop. She was not wearing her Gondorian dress or headscarf as she was the other day; instead she was dressed in clothes she had purchased from there, with her crimson headscarf only loosely positioned as a hood that she removed once entering. The city was already starting to receive guests for the coronation, dressed in their own foreign garbs that she became less concerned about her contrary appearance.

Entering the shop, she was greeted by the same old woman, "May I help you?" She would not have recognized Vezely as the same young woman if not for her wearing her shop's garments. Her mouth was agape upon realizing two Elves were in her humble store.

"Good morning," Vez greeted politely, "I must apologize for the other day. I appeared as someone else," she said, noting her surprise.

"I had no idea," she stammered wide-eyed, "And I thought it curious to have a young Gondorian woman in my shop, but an Elf, now two Elves."

"I was raised in Rhun and will be returning there shortly," Vez replied calmly, hoping the old woman would ease from her shock, "I was glad to purchase clothing better suited to my tastes..."

Legolas began looking through the store, curious of its exotic trinkets, spices, and garments, as Vezely inquired about the items she needed for the ritual, which the shopkeeper did carry and she went to the back of the shop to retrieve what was needed.

"Did you find something interesting?" Vez asked, looking at Legolas around the narrow corner.

"This color would suit you," he said, pulling a plum colored garment from the rack, not dissimilar in style from what she was wearing, though the tunic was longer, and the material of a higher quality brocade and more detailed stitching.

She wondered what he was getting at, saying unimpressed with it, "That is not an everyday garment."

"You will need something of the sort for the coronation, will you not?" he explained, not realizing he was reminding her of something discomforting.

"Oh that," she remarked biting her lip, not having thought about the need to dress up for the event, nor liking the thought of doing so. The only time she really dressed up was in full battle gear. Somehow he was not surprised by her reaction.

"Luckily I have a vile left," the shopkeeper called, hurriedly returning to Vez's side with a glass vile of sadar oil in her hand, "When the vandals entered, they unfortunately broke most of my glass items. Now," she wanted to wait to give the price, "Will there be anything else I can help you with?"

Vez hesitated before adding, "And this," she went to quickly retrieve the plum-colored garment Legolas had pointed to, caving into her partner's suggestion.

"Ah, that is a special one, for a special occasion, and it will look lovely on you," the shopkeeper said politely.

Vez cared not for having the fashion approval of either the shopkeeper or Legolas, but figured she better have something of her own accord to wear at the coronation or else they might stick her into another Gondorian gown.

Legolas had a self-satisfied look on his face while leaving, liking how she acquiesced to his suggestion, though she would never admit to doing so. Vez preferred not to say anything regarding it as they returned to the horse to descend down to the second level prisons.

* * *

**_A/N: Lots of love to my reviewers and tumblr [vezely . tumblr . com] followers and submitters! Glad to hear people like some softness and hope this chapter feeds the need. Remi versus Legolas coming up!_**


	30. The Ritual

**Chapter 30 - The Ritual**

"Fair warning," Vez casually said to Legolas as they walked closer to the prisons, "Remi enjoys the sound of his own voice."

"You mean he is overly conversant?" Legolas verified.

"You could say that," Vez did not know whether she should be concerned about Legolas interacting with Remi. She suspected in their prior delicate conversation, the one where Legolas boldly asked what her past relationship with Remi entailed, that he held mild contempt for the man. It made her curious whether he desired attending this outing because he distrusted her with him or whether he just distrusted him. Vezely would not expect Legolas to be jealous, or find a need to be protective, so she was unsure of his angle. Yet she also worried that Remi, being an incessant talker, would mention something damning about her past that Legolas didn't already know. Yet she wondered why she worried, for Legolas had already been given enough of the horrific deeds of her past surely anything else wouldn't come as a surprise.

Faramir shifted his proud stance slightly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable when he saw the two Elves approaching. The Steward knew he had done wrong by convicting Vezely of the crime in the Dim Quarters, jumping to conclusions due to his own bias against her culture and growing grudge with her due to several contentious arguments. He never would have assumed she was selfishly protecting a young Gondorian woman of punishment. He had slipped and it made Aragorn concerned about how convictions were being handled in Minas Tirith. The Steward had spent the prior days in council with the soon-to-be king verifying laws and creating measures to ensure such instances didn't get handled similarly under his rule. While Aragorn never openly rebuked Faramir for his mishap, the young Steward felt irresponsible. He had never been a man who desired power; he more desired to prove himself in the eyes of his father as simply a capable man who was honorable and brave, even if he did not possess a warrior's heart like his older brother, Boromir. Being thrust into a stewardship role so quickly after the battle's end was unexpected, especially after living a life in his big brother's shadow. Perhaps he was too eager to show his capabilities. He did not know if he read Vez wrong, seeing how her company trusted her despite her barbarian tactics and roughness in character. Perhaps his bias against those from Rhun shined through, for all Gondorians held a deep mistrust along with their misunderstanding of Rhunic culture. Centuries of war will do that.

"Good morning," Faramir greeted them, though he seemed to be directing his pleasant greeting more to Legolas than to Vezely, adding, "I appreciate this being completed prior the arrival of more guests."

Remi, who stood nearby with a guard by his side, was eyeing down Vezely, curious as to how she got out of her previous predicament and to again be on neutral terms with the Steward. The Variag had been given a clean pair of trousers, a new shirt, and access to a razor to shave. He looked less like a prisoner, despite wearing iron cufflinks around his wrists.

Vez did not openly acknowledge the Variag's interest, replying to Faramir sarcastically, "Of course. Wouldn't want such heathen rituals to blacken the pristine reputation of your White City." Legolas held his tongue, knowing too well that Vezely did not get along with the Steward. He disliked her attitude but prohibited himself from getting involved in her quarrels. "And these will not be necessary," she said while pulling up on the chain connecting Remi's handcuffs before looking directly at the nearby guard, adding, "Neither is he."

Before Faramir could respond to contest, Legolas politely added, "I will accompany them to the fields. You will not need to worry."

Faramir relaxed his stance and un-narrowed his eyes, trusting the Elf-prince's word, "Very well," he replied curtly, motioning to the guard to remove Remi's cuffs. After he did, Remi remarked some choice words in Variag dialect before going to Vez's side.

Legolas exchanged a look of confidence with Faramir before following Remi and Vez as they departed on foot, with a long walk down to the first level and out the gates. Riding horses was out of the question for they could not trust that Remi wouldn't take off on his own accord.

Remi starred back at Legolas as he followed them, remarking in Easterling, "You have a body guard?"

"I do not," Vez replied bluntly in Westron, "And if you desire reply, speak Westron, otherwise expect silence," she was not about to allow Remi to make Legolas feel uncomfortable.

While slightly annoyed by the request, Remi acquiesced. He was not one to hold in his thoughts, going ahead and asking casually in Westron, "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" She raised one eyebrow.

"Go without punching that _yavonka_ in the face?" he said sardonically referring to Faramir.

Vez laughed slightly, turning her head to peer back at Faramir from the corner of her eye, saying amused, "I surprise myself sometimes."

"What did he say?" Legolas asked suspiciously, wondering the meaning of the foreign word but not desiring to speak directly to the man.

Remi piped in, stating to the Elf directly, "It is not translatable into Westron."

"_Yavonka_," Vez explained, "It is a term for men whose rank is based on blood heritage alone."

"You refer to Faramir?" Legolas replied with slight admonishment.

Remi chuckled slightly, before Vez explained still amused, "That's right and not as a term of endearment." Legolas looked at her with slight disappointment, leading her to reply to him in Elvish, "I do not have to like everyone."

Legolas shook his head but let it go, before Vezely realized she had not introduced the two to each other. "Legolas, you know Remi, and Remi, this is Legolas of the Woodland Realm. He is not my body guard, but he preferably takes the place of one of Faramir's guards who would've reported back everything we say or do to the Steward." She wanted to let Remi know he was there on her own account.

Remi nodded briefly in greeting, Legolas doing the same, both coldly so, as if each were silently displaying their animosity towards each other.

Being curious, Remi asked boldly, "How did an Elf find himself on this edge of the war? Should you not be in the north with the _others_?" Disdain dripped from his intonation of _others_.

Legolas picked up on his contempt, causing him to be uninterested in answering.

Vezely realized this and intervened quickly, "A small band of travelers from distant lands journeyed to Minas Tirith for a specific purpose. Legolas represented his people in this task." Remi picked up on some admiration in Vez's description. Deciding to change the topic to the current task, Vez spoke of the ritual, "I was able to find sadar oil, and birch wood has been piled for our use outside the gates." She pulled the small vile from her bag and handed it to him.

"Good," Remi said curtly, taking the vile and inspecting its quality, which surprised Vez. Realizing this he asked, "You probably do not expect me to take my role seriously?"

"Ha," Vez scoffed, "What makes you think that?"

He smirked, "You know well I never desired to continue my family's trade," he said speaking of some familiarity with each other. "Divinators are a rare breed," he began explaining for the interest of the other Elf, "You can only be one if you are born one, but to be one means giving up a chance to be a high ranking warrior."

Vez added starkly, "Even though it is often a commander's divinator who runs the show."

"Only if you are respected enough, most commanders hold less weight in reading omens these days," Remi verified.

She explained for Legolas who was listening confused, "In Khand, divinators are few in number and high ranked officials will patron one for spiritual purposes. For commanders, divinators are ceremonially consulted when planning battles, calling upon them to decipher omens and read the entrails of the night's kill to see what the next day's incursion might bring. If the omen is bad, plans change."

"You believe you can see the future?" Legolas asked skeptically.

Remi smirked, "I can read signs as all divinators are taught."

"And this is why the resistance sent you back to Khand?" Legolas inquired.

Remi nodded, "I was to be the divinator of a high ranked official. To acquire information to help that hopeless cause, but I unexpectedly crossed paths with Öldür," the mention of her former second in command peaked Vez's interest. "He was looking for an answer to his problem. So I read the stars and told him that his answer had no desirable scent and no recognizable taste, but was clear and certain as once before."

"That is not saying anything," Legolas stated bluntly, not thinking highly of the man's trade.

"What answer was he looking for?" Vez asked suspiciously.

"How to defeat you in battle?" he replied, knowing it would intrigue her. "He had just heard more rumors that you were alive and possibly with the resistance. It made him nervous and he was looking for divinators to read signs that would lead him to perfect strategy. I was brought before him and he liked what he heard. Afterwards, he made me his top divinator."

"That is a powerful position. I am not surprised you betrayed the resistance," Vez stated considering; not that she condoned what transpired but she couldn't deny if she was in similar path she wouldn't have done the same. She added, "And I know the answer he came to," knowing what the cryptic words formed in Öldür's mind.

"Ah, so you deciphered the riddle as he did. Great minds think alike," Remi said admiringly.

"It was _Castis_, the poison I had devised using as a fear tactic when he was my second in command. Of course he would associate your words with it," she stated, shaking her head annoyed.

"You knew of this poison?" Legolas asked the man boldly, thinking he was responsible for almost killing Vezely on the fields they walked to.

"I am only a messenger," Remi was not deterred by his condemnation, "I had not heard of this specific poison beforehand, but the signs I read formed such words in my head and Öldür deciphered them as such."

"Typical story of divinators. They wash their hands of all blame but pull strings when it serves them," Vez stated bluntly.

Remi smirked, "That is not always the case especially in regards to commanders, where we simply have a ceremonial role."

"Except for Öldür," Vezely remembered, "He was unusually superstitious, desiring to consult a divinator before every move we made. He had a personal divinator by the name of Yorük," she said his name with spite, "Irrational prick interfered on enough occasions that I actually poisoned him. It was the first time I tried _Castis_. It has a different effect when ingested. It appeared he had eaten and died from spoilt food. Öldür never did find out what killed him," Vez seemed unfazed by this deed.

Remi mused, "Poor fuck. He was obviously not smart enough to know when to lay low. A good divinator does not overstep in delicate affairs."

Vez's eyes shifted to Legolas, who looked at her with consternation, as he asked confused, "I did not know this poison was once your own device."

Remi spoke proudly, "I heard you used in the Sera region, calling a truce in order to send enemies home only to die days later from mere scratches. They feared you as one would a demon."

Vez piped in an explanation, saying steadily, "Psychological warfare. Easterlings perfect it. I sought the region's submission and that is what I received through fear," she knew Legolas did not appreciate such tales.

But Remi continued his tales of misplaced admiration, "Regardless of your parting, Öldür spoke highly of your war intellect and skill in combat. Is it true you brought down the Three Brothers of the Ash Lands in a fight to the death?" he asked, as they rounded the corner into the former marketplace.

"Two, the third laid down his sword desiring to be spared," Vez said nonchalantly, trying to play down any praise.

"Ah, but you still had his head," Remi remarked knowingly.

"I had _all _their heads," she said forthrightly with a slight smirk, a feat she was not ashamed to still be amused by. She was surprised Öldür still divulged these stories after all that transpired between them.

Remi started laughing, "I would have paid to bear witness."

Legolas was less than amused at their amusement.

"It was not a feat worth attendance," Vezely added a second later hoping to tell the truth of the tale, crossing her arms as they walked. "The three had gotten soft from the spoils of their victories and their egos had grown along with their bellies. In order to avoid the toil of gathering their troops, they simply assumed they could defeat me in hand-to-hand combat. I accepted, of course. One of them, the smarter of the three, undoubtedly planned all along to let his brothers fall before him," she added thinking it over, "He only proved himself unworthy of being spared." Relaying some context to Legolas, "The Three Brothers of the Ash Lands acquired their tri-empire in Far Rhun only after many years in stalemate. Neither could defeat the other on the field so they forged an alliance and conquered the outlying lands together, using their captives as slaves to build their castles and tend their crops. It may have been the one time when Sauron's army was responsible for securing the freedom of many. And I was seen as liberator," Vez remembered fondly.

"Öldür put it as you being worshipped as such," Remi said amused.

"Ah, he was amused by that. I was annoyed," Vez replied, her arms still crossed.

Legolas, although appalled wondered, "One could argue they were not better off, and you could have left them as slaves."

"A slave would rather fall on ones sword than fight for another with it. But give them freedom, and suddenly, they have a reason to fight," she said cunningly, "They were useless as slaves, but as willing recruits to their new liberator, they held purpose."

"Smart and deadly," Remi mused, "A rare combination in women these days."

"Don't be so sure," Vezely replied dryly.

Legolas was surprised by their banter; discussing topics of murder, decapitation, and warfare with amusement while to the ears of an Elf they would cause disquiet and despair. Vezely's casualness around the man also displeased him. When at first the two re-met at the prison, she had desired to kill him for his betrayal of the resistance, and now she seemed perfectly comfortable and almost friendly around him. He also disliked how Remi spoke admiringly of her past foul deeds, and that such talk easily captured Vez's candid replies. She didn't seem to hold back any information that she may have when speaking to him about such topics. Not that he hadn't witnessed this side of her character prior. He knew her manners were Easterling, but a full display of this attitude towards such subjects unsettled him.

They had left the city's gates, which had remained open since war's end to welcome all guests who would be arriving for the coronation. It was the first time Vezely had walked back upon the fields she fought and fell on. They each picked up some bundles of birch wood, which Vez had piled off on the side wall earlier in preparation, before walking further out on the field.

"You and Öldür were close then?" Vezely asked Remi as they walked.

"He counseled with me often and drank with me even more so," Remi replied.

"He always did enjoy his drink," Vez thought back to the man's intake of Dorwinion wine and Khand dark ale.

"He was not in a good place, mentally, when he heard that you might be working for the resistance," Remi added thinking back, "He would talk freely about you when he got drunk thus I now know quite a lot about the Destroyer of Nations." Vez shot him an annoyed glare. "The man once cared for you quite deeply, actually. He perhaps even felt mild remorse for his misdeeds, taking your legions and all," then clarifying, "But only when he was drunk, of course."

Vez was not fazed by hearing this, and she shifted her gaze farther afield, "I killed Öldür over there. It was not a quick death or a respectful one," she added steadily, "For he held his bowels in his hands as I slit his throat. I am glad to know I also haunted his dreams for sometime before that."

"Vezely," Legolas said wide-eyed, completely off-put by her evil words and thoughts.

Her eyes went to his, realizing they held surprise and disappointment. Vez swallowed what spit was in her mouth uncomfortably, noting she had let the conversation stray slightly into what appeared as her boasting about her past violence. She had not thought it wrong to banter on about such subjects in casual conversation, for warriors often bragged about kills, but perhaps an Elf would not do so for they held a deep respect for life. She knew this, but somehow it didn't sink into her way of acting, especially when interacting with someone from her adopted culture. Such words flowed from her tongue without thought to whose ears they would enter and possibly upset.

"The man got what was coming to him," Remi added gauging the field with his eyes, somewhat curious by the Elf's outburst and Vez's reaction to it, "I read his death in the ashes of his campfire the morning before the battle." Remi knelt down, grabbing a fist of soil in his hand and allowing it to filter slowly from it back to the ground.

Vez did not respond to Legolas or Remi, and instead moved her eyes back to the field. Upon realizing where they stood, Legolas stated solemnly, "A mass grave," his eyes also scanning the far section of the field as Vezely's was. One could easily tell the soil had been uplifted not long ago and undoubtedly the bodies of thousands of dead Southrons and Variags lay below it. The Gondorians had burned the bodies of the orcs, as was customary, while burying the men, even though most Rhunic cultures practiced cremation.

Vez's heart sank, finding the immensity of the field staggering and relaying the numbers in her head of not only the Variags and Haradrim which lay there, but the Easterlings in the northeast who fought to the death at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. Sauron promised the people of Rhun the lands to the West, but instead those lands became their eternal resting place, and she had a hand in coercing Rhun's people to accept this promise.

Remi chanted some verses before standing up, taking the birch wood aside him and forming a small pyre. Vezely did the same with hers, spacing it several meters out from the other, forming several more pyres along the field where the men were buried underneath. Legolas observed their labor, noting Vezely's solemn emotions and the rhythms she went through, suspecting she had done this ritual before. Remi would then go and sprinkle dots of sadar oil onto the wood, saying a few verses in his dialect as he did before lighting the one pyre on fire using flint that had been brought. The wind was lightly blowing, making the fire dance and crack through the wood and oil, the latter producing a blue tint to the flames. Both he and Vezely would light the rest of the pyres using wood lit by the flames of the first one.

Remi chanted more verses as Vezely stood aside him gazing out on the field, and unexpectedly to Legolas, she began to sing. He had never heard her sing before and while her voice held Elvish qualities, she did not sing as an Elf did nor did the words she formed sound as pleasing as Elvish verses. There was a unique undulation to the way she sung the foreign words. They seemed to catch the wind and float away with it; the sound was haunting to him.

Vezely sang a common warrior's burial song in Rhun, one which had some variation throughout the land's cultures but stemmed from a single source - a song which spoke not of enemies or victors, but of the great equalizer Death and of the honor to have met him in battle. It was a song of respect and remembrance.

She had song it before, at battle's end when many men were lost. As a former general, she always regretted needlessly losing men. It was her utmost responsibility to keep her numbers consistent, so she was methodical about maneuvers and tactics. It was a numbers game, as Legolas damningly called her war statistics, but for her it was about keeping from needing to burn massive pyres of bodies or dig large graves, at least for her own men. Long ago she helped lead her adopted people, the Balchoth, to their death on the fields on Rohan. She never wanted to make that mistake again and it drove her responsibility as a general of Sauron's legions. Her men were important to her even if she was cruel to her enemies. Thus, when gazing out upon these death fields, it stirred past emotions of regret and failure. She finished her song; her voice intrepid against the winds which had picked up force causing the flames to lick higher. She closed her eyes, not expecting a small tear to fall from one, only to have the wind dry it as if fell down her cheek.

She removed the dagger from her bag and handed it to Remi, who took it carefully from her. Legolas did not expect Vezely to freely arm the man and he grew weary and kept his eyes locked on his every move. Remi spoke words to the weapon, touched the blade to his forehead, and then turned and spoke to Vezely in more words Legolas could not understand.

"It should be you who does the honor," he said to Vez offering her the dagger, "As standing general, it is custom."

She hesitated slightly, not knowing if it was entirely proper, but agreed. She took the 'blessed' dagger from his hand and held the blade to her other palm, slicing it, not flinching as it separated her flesh. She squeezed her fist and let the blood drip from it onto the soil.

"Blood to honor blood," she spoke proudly in Easterling, "To live as a warrior is to have honor. To die in battle is to have earned respect as one. May your ancestors embrace you and may those who live envy you. Blood to honor blood."

"Blood to honor blood," Remi repeated, bowing his head after.

She had not spoken these words in a long time; they were a transcultural eulogy a general spoke at war's end over all the bodies that were lost, comrade or foe. It would be done in front of the surviving victors, to give them strength to persevere. That was why it was important; not for the dead, but for the living, to hold them in solidarity as warriors bound to contract to keep fighting. Despite the absence of troops there now, it still felt important and right to say. It was as if she was back in those boots, doing her duty as commander, showing respect for the dead, holding regret for having lost men, but having strength to continue her path with those still of this world. It made her feel honorable again, as a leader should feel; even if before her honor could easily be put into question.

"It is heavy burden to gaze at war's end and weigh bitter cost of it," she spoke in Westron after a prolonged moment of silence.

Remi placed a hand on her shoulder, replying steadily, "Rhun will persevere."

She looked at him curiously, somewhat surprised to find the same hope in his eyes as she had. Perhaps the man had a sliver of care for his homeland. "It will," she replied with a small nod.

Legolas did not know what to make of this odd ritual, for it was far removed from Elvish customs. Burials were quiet affairs. They did not burn fires or spill blood but sing soft hymns while others kept silent in remembrance. Dared he think what he just witnessed was slightly barbaric.

Vezely walked back over to Legolas's side; he had a quizzical look on his face, still milling over what had transpired, "We can return now," she said to him softly, "These fires will burn the wood to piles of ash that will then scatter across these fields. It will be enough to appease the living that their fallen comrades were respected in death."

Legolas nodded before removing a clean handkerchief from his tunic's side pocket and taking Vezely's cut hand in his. She smirked slightly at the fact he had carried one, though she did appreciate his caring, gentle touch, for he had done this before when she cut her knuckles by hitting Yaban's face. He wrapped it around, wondering if she cut too deep and if it would be in need of stitches. She seemed less than concerned that it was still bleeding, however.

"Was this necessary?" he asked carefully in Elvish, not desiring for Remi to understand their personal conversation.

Vez smirked, noting now he had not expected the ritual to involve shedding blood and especially not her own. She repeated again the phrase she spoke, but translated into Elvish, "Blood to honor blood. We would also sacrifice animals and then feast and drink to their honor, but this will have to suffice."

_Sacrifice_, the word itself sounded uncivilized to him, he then let go of her hand and she smiled slightly in thanks for his wrapping.

"Let's go," she called to Remi, turning from them to return to the city gates. The man appeared to be looking back on the field, though he was contemplating the interaction between the two.

Remi would walk past Legolas and give him a stern glare, one the Elf returned in kind before each returned to the main thoroughfare that led into the city.

Vezely asked Remi, "Has there been any mistreatment of the men?" She was curious how the prisoners were being handled and wanted to take this opportunity to speak to one of them in private.

"No," Remi replied truthfully, "The guards continue their usual banter, but none of their actions require reprimand. Though," he paused considering how to phrase his words, "The men do grow restless with each other. You may have a mutinous bunch on your hands before we even leave the gates," he then added hopeful, "But the Captain has resolve to hold us together."

Vezely was afraid of this, and part of her wondered whether it would be wise to leave sooner than waiting for the coronation; even though several prisoners needed the extra weeks to heal, especially those with broken bones. Then she wondered whether certain prisoners were making plans, "Do you suspect splintering groups?"

"Hard to tell," Remi replied considering, "Much goes on in the dark corners of that prison."

"I ask you keep your eyes and ears attuned to such activity. If Rhun is to persevere, we all need to make it back there alive, and in solidarity," she said in hopeful confidence.

Remi nodded, intrigued to be given such a delicate request.

As Vezely was concerned, so too was Legolas, for she would be leaving with these troops and if they were unstable and were to revolt, she may never make it back to Rhun to complete her path of redemption.

Upon entering the prison grounds, they were again greeted by Faramir, "Lady Vez, if I can have a word," he inquired, leading her down the corridor away from Remi and Legolas. "I have received your request for supplies from Aragorn, it is very thorough." Vezely had devised a list of items that she suspected to need on the journey back to Rhun. They would not be able to make it safely across the borders if they had nothing but the clothes on their back.

"It is the minimal," Vez replied, "I seek to avoid my men taking what they need along the way." She knew Faramir was concerned her troops would rape and pillage in Ithilien before crossing the borders into Rhovanion.

"It is reasonable. I also noted you do not request weaponry," he said wondering.

"I thought that would be overstepping. Though for hunting purposes, I considered requesting a few bows and arrows," she replied politely.

He nodded, "I see that as reasonable, as are the other items."

Vezely was surprised the man was suddenly being agreeable to her demands, "It would be appreciated. And perhaps when I return, I will be able to repay the city for its hospitality."

Faramir queried, "Is it your plan to return?" Faramir did not know the full extent of her future path; though he overheard that she was barred from crossing the sea into the Utter West due to her past crimes.

"It is," she replied steadily, holding her head slightly higher, "I desire to leave these lands alongside my kin, when I am permitted to..."

While Vezely was preoccupied with Faramir, Remi used the respite as an opportunity to speak with the Elf, saying slyly, "She is the perfect woman is she not? Strong, ruthless, cunning, beautiful. I am very much looking forward to the journey home, to spend more time with her."

Legolas internally queried the man's objective in trying to spark conversation with him, narrowing his eyes on his he warned, "You would be wise to keep your distance."

He raised an eyebrow, "Now why would I want to do that?"

"She is spoken for," Legolas stated strongly, hoping to imply they were in a relationship.

"No one speaks for Vezely but Vezely," Remi added disdainfully, now realizing the two were involved. Then adding amused, "You think you know her, yet you know nothing of Rhunic culture. Nor do you have any respect for the general she is. When she leaves this land you will become nothing but a faded memory. A weakness she doesn't need," then laughing, he added, "And I will be the one to keep her bed warm."

Legolas grabbed him by the collar; a second more and he would not have hesitated throwing his fist in his face, but Faramir and Vezely were returning. Faramir asked from afar, "Is there a problem?"

"Is there?" Remi stated undeterred under the Elf's grip and glaring eyes, keeping his demeanor cool and collected.

Faramir commanded his guard to take Remi away, and before leaving them, he said to Vezely with confidence, "We will discuss this topic more later."

Vez looked at Legolas, whose anger had not subsided from the prior incident, asking curiously, "What did he say?"

Legolas did not reply as he tried to settle his emotions, not looking at her, instead watching the man fade down the corridor. Vez smirked. She was amused he could be riled at all and to act in a way that was more becoming of her. She grabbed his hand and interlinked her fingers with his, saying with some care, "You should not take anything he says seriously."

Her touch was enough to pull his eyes to hers, "I do not like his manner around you."

"Nor do I, but he is not a threat," she said carefully, squeezing his hand slightly, "To me or to us."

He breathed in deeply, trying to regain his composure.

"I need to talk briefly with the Captain," Vez said, smiling softly at him, "Then we can have the whole day to ourselves." Her words were enough to elicit a smile from him; he knew she was offering them as added comfort before leaving him in the same direction they took Remi.

The man's words honestly stung Legolas. It was true, he did not understand Rhunic culture or hold respect for the general she was, and he still misunderstood the general she sought to be. Reconciling their stark differences was trying, and to have this man point these issues out to him did not help the situation. He also realized Remi's ignoble objectives in regards to his partner. It was unlikely they would be married before her departure, and while he trusted their bond, he realized his paucity of knowledge on Rhunic relationships and what they cordoned off in regards to physical relations with others. He felt uncomfortable even thinking about such topics, but knew they needed to be discussed.

His father and kin would arrive in Minas Tirith in a few days time, along with other members of the Elven Delegation hailing from Rivendell and Lothlorien. The anticipation was both one of joy and discomfort. He was joyful to again see and be around those who were close to him, to share his own stories and hear their tales of victory in the war now over; but he would also be announcing his betrothal - and one unexpected if any announcements had been made or rumors had circulated regarding the alliance his father and Lord Celeborn sought to make by matching him with Lady Adele. It had become too late to send his father a return letter, in which he would have told him that he heard the call of the sea and desired to leave these shores with Vezely by his side, while making clear his disinterest in marrying Lady Adele. Now he would have to relay all this to him in person, as well as other information: that his bride-to-be was barred from passing into the Utter West anytime soon and the indecencies of her past called into question any official union they would seek to have. He feared disappointing his father, who would undoubtedly see such obstacles as heartbreaking and possibly damaging for his son. Legolas feared it may lead his father to harbor contempt for the one he loved. In a few days time, the situation in Minas Tirith would grow increasingly delicate, that he could only think he better enjoy the next few days where Vezely and him truly had time to themselves.

* * *

**_A/N:__ If you're interested - I have an audio sample of what I imagine Vez's burial song might sound like on the story's tumblr. Please check it out if you like audio to your silent reading [vezely . tumblr post/51300993637/natasha-atlas-la-printemps-click- to-listen]._**


	31. Elvish Ethics

**_A/N_**_: __**I'm back! And if you're curious about what Vez's gown looks like, wonderful Deviant artist lika-143 has designed 3 possibilities, which I uploaded to the tumblr [vezely . tumblr . com]. Please vote on your favorite when you have time.**_

* * *

**Chapter 31 - Elvish Ethics**

Vezely gently and slowly ran the tips of her fingers down the length of the gown's long skirt, which she hung from the door of her room's empty wardrobe. The fabric held a softness she was not accustomed to; a delicacy she would not freely choose as a covering for her body - a body of a warrior.

She had almost forgotten to remove the newly purchased garment from its brown packing paper when Legolas and her road back up to the guest villa after the burial ritual and her brief meeting with the Captain that morning. She returned to her room, while Legolas went to meet with Aragorn and Gimli to discuss matters involving the imminent arrival of guests. It was important that Aragorn, himself, and Gimli be prepared to mediate the council with not only the Elven Delegation, but the ambassadors from Dale and the dwarves from Erebor, since they would also be in attendance, along with Eomer and his advisors from Rohan. The crowning of the king was a pivotal turning point in the history of Middle Earth, and Aragorn would have these meetings duly organized in order to glide everyone into an era of extended peace. There would be a number of powerful leaders in attendance, especially from Elvendom: Elrond from Rivendell, Celeborn from Lothlorien, and Thranduil from Mirkwood. While the Elves would be using Minas Tirith to also hold their own Elf-only councils, for the Elves were going through their own period of transition, their interaction with men and dwarves was also critical, especially now that Sauron's presence and territorial inroads were rescinded.

Vez understood this was a pivotal moment for the West, yet it was even more critical for Rhun and she hoped she would be permitted to discuss certain matters with these various ambassadors, in particular those from Dale and Erebor who actually fought against the Easterlings in the north. She needed to know the number of causalities, and whether any retreated or were released and returned to Rhun. The Easterling Coalition was composed of a vast number of clans, whose homelands were spread out in various corners of Rhun from the Eastern borders of Rhovanion to Far Rhun; a coalition she helped forge through her own engagements as a general. While the Coalition had a marked solidarity in fighting style, armor, and weaponry, and all had pledged allegiance to the Dark Lord under one Easterling banner, they maintained their regional cultures, dialects, and customs. Because of this, the Coalition had always been susceptible to fragmentation and Vezely had suspicions of deserter clans who would easily take advantage of Sauron's defeat in order to return and claim a land now vacant of most of its militia.

On top of this, Remi's information about dissent amongst the Variag prisoners had her less than assured about making it back to Rhun peacefully. While the Captain told her not to worry, that he would hold the group together before their release, she suspected a coup was waiting to happen. Perhaps she would be challenged for leadership before they would leave for Rhun, and if challenged should she heed the call and fight the challenger to the death, as expected of one in command. Should she spill more Rhunic blood on Western soil? _If it comes to that_, she thought darkly, narrowing her eyes. Dressing up for the Coronation seemed the least of her worries at this point.

Her eyes moved from the dark plum-colored fabric to the white linen wrapping tied around her cut left hand, causing her thoughts to shift endearingly of Legolas bandaging it for her earlier that morning. She was not accustomed to being cared for as such, or with so tender a touch as his that she felt smitten just thinking about it. The reminder gave some peace to her troubled thoughts. And instead of staying in her room, she headed to the kitchen hall, knowing the hobbits would be enjoying what they called a "second breakfast." For some reason, she enjoyed being around the hobbits, there was something about their carefree nature which calmed her so she made it a point to join them in the mornings for breakfast or second breakfast when she could.

* * *

Sam meticulously cut into his thick slice of ham, carving a perfect bite-sized piece, doing the same to his fried egg. He stacked each on his fork and brought it to his mouth with anticipation, "You know, I quite missed the taste of fried eggs and ham," he said elated, his mouth yet full.

Frodo rounded the table with an equally decked out plate, grabbing one of the blueberry scones piled high in a basket at the table's center, "After lembas almost everyday, anything tastes good," he said cheerfully, grateful to be out of the infirmary and back in the company of close friends.

Merry and Pippin were also seated at the table. Pippin was slathering a scone in clotted cream and raspberry preserves, while Merry was finishing his first glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. "Don't remind me of lembas," Merry warned playfully, after swallowing a big gulp and wiping his mouth off on his sleeve.

Pippin added, "Ya know, if you stretch your imagination, lembas almost taste like these scones, but without the blueberries, clotted cream, and preserves."

Frodo laughed slightly, "I think that's taking out the best parts."

Merry added, "Leaves you just with the dough."

Pippin shrugged before taking another bite of his loaded scone.

"Now we shouldn't be putting down lembas," Sam lectured them while slicing another piece of ham, "It did get us through some rough patches on our journey. We were lucky the Elves provided us with so much." They all nodded to agree, "And I for one will be thanking them again for it when they arrive in Minas Tirith."

"As we all should," Frodo added in support of Sam's suggestion with a small smile.

"I heard they will be here in a few days," Pippin stated with wide eyes, knowing it was news to discover they were close by.

"We should feel quite lucky to be in the company of Elves once again before we return home," Sam added optimistically.

Vez was at the kitchen counter, milling through a large basket of fruit overhearing their pleasant conversation. She decided on a red apple and went to sit on the edge of the long table where the four hobbits were conversing, "But you are in the company of Elves," Vez said casually with a smirk before taking a bite of her apple.

"No offense, Miss Vez," Sam started judiciously, "But you are quite different from the Elves we've spent time with in Rivendell and Lorien."

Vez knew this had to be true, but she was all too curious to hear his description of Elves, for she was curious herself. So she prodded him, "How so?" Her words were mumbled from still chewing on her first bite of apple.

"For one thing, Elves of Lorien and Rivendell do not sit on the edges of tables or speak with their mouths full," Sam spoke as a matter of fact, not implying it as a form of critique, however. Though the words did cause Vez to quickly swallow what she was chewing, smirk at him devilishly, and slide herself onto the bench to sit properly next to Frodo, who smiled at her amused by her reaction.

"And what else?" she asked hoping he'd continue.

"They all wear long robes and have long hair and they walk as if they are gliding on the air beneath them," a string of facts which caused Vez to nod in agreement, knowing she only wore trousers, her hair was uncannily short, and she walked no different than any man did. Then Sam added, "But they be a lot harder to talk frank with, if you know what I mean."

"I think Sam is implying you are easier to talk to," Frodo added a second later; an assertion Vez had not heard before.

"Yes, yes you are Miss Vez, which makes you quite a surprise for an Elf and all," Sam said defending himself against any possible incursion on disrespect.

"I have not been in the company of Elves so I wouldn't know what surprise I hold. But I suppose Elves are a bit removed from hobbits, dwarves, or men," Vez said considering.

"Hobbits are simple folk," Sam clarified.

"Boring is more like it," Merry added, noting he was both excited to return home, while at the same time disheartened that his adventure was at an end.

"You four are far from boring," Vez replied with a smile, before taking another bite of her apple.

"Can't say the same about my ol' gaffer," Sam stated bluntly, "He's about as interesting as watching paint dry on a wagon cart on a long summer afternoon."

"Those Elves aren't going to be staying here, are they?" Pippin interrupted, suddenly wondering.

"Well it is the guest villa Pip, unless Aragorn is letting them stay in the king's private quarters or out in town, I don't imagine they'd stay anyplace else," Merry replied, though none of them knew.

"From what I heard from Legolas, they'll be taking over the East Wing of the villa," Vez relayed this information.

"The whole East Wing?" Pippin queried.

"Not sure, but the dwarf ambassadors from Erebor were decidedly put in the West Wing. I suppose to avoid any difficulties," Vez said shrugging her shoulders.

"They'll flip when they find out about Gimli and Legolas's friendship," Merry added, knowing about the rivalry between Elves and Dwarves, having witnessed it at Rivendell at the council and between Legolas and Gimli at the start of their journey.

"There is that, isn't there?" Vez thought out loud appearing unconcerned, though secretly wishing this friendship would cause more of a stir than her own relationship with the Mirkwood heir. She did not want to openly show any discomfort of the approaching changes in the villa's population, but meeting other Elves, and all presumably High Elves considering their position as delegates, as well as Legolas's father, King Thranduil, unnerved her.

"Well, I just hope they don't eat all the scones," Pippin said grabbing another one quickly as if they would disappear if he didn't...

* * *

"Lady Vez," a house maid called, stirring Vez from her thoughts as she gazed out on the surrounding vista the terrace provided. "Lord Legolas has requested that you meet him in the East Wing, if you would kindly follow me."

Vezely followed closely behind the house maid as she led her through villa's corridors, not having expecting the invitation. The East Wing's spacious courtyard and hallways were decorated similarly to where she was staying, but the distance between the doors to each private room were set further apart, so she assumed each room was more spacious. The house maid led her to an open door, and she stepped into it suspecting to find Legolas inside, though she found an empty room, modestly adorned but with a prime focal point - a spacious open balcony.

"What do you think?" Legolas asked coming quietly in the door behind her, causing her to quickly turn around.

"Think of what?" she asked, smiling from just the sight of him, while also trying to hide the fact that she was caught unaware by his quiet entrance. Legolas amusingly acknowledged his ability to still sneak up on her.

"This will be my father's room," he said taking her by the hand and leading her to the open balcony upon which a perfect view in front of the city was laid out before them; a view not provided over on their wing. One could look out towards the mountains of Mordor, but no longer did fire and smoke occlude the blue skies above it; instead, it appeared as if Sauron never had his lair there. She then noticed a small table had been set with wine and two glasses upon it. "I figured we could enjoy this view before it is occupied."

She smiled widely, surprised by his slyness, being told his whole afternoon would be mired in meetings. "I like the sound of that," she replied, not removing her hand from his as she moved closer to the balcony's stone railing. She could see what was once a battlefield below, noting that the pyres her and Remi lit that morning were extinguished, the cedar ashes scattered by the winds across the mass grave they walked upon. She turned to him and took his other hand in hers, her eyes accidentally diving into his blue orbs, finding the feelings his returned gaze evoked surreal.

Being touched by her bandaged hand, reminded him of the wound she self-inflicted that morning, an act that still made him uncomfortable. He lifted it and turned her palm upward, peeking under the linen to inspect the wound.

"You do not need to tend to me," she said with a half smile.

"If I do not, who will?" he replied, noting she had not bothered to change his impromptu bandage from that morning.

She didn't reply immediately, not being one to accept the kindness of others easily. The Blue Wizards tended to her and she still did not know how to show appreciation. "I know well enough not to cut too deep," she finally added, politely removing her hand from his, "It will heal in a few days."

"You have done this often?" he asked, looking at her curiously.

"I have been in enough battles whose ends required it," she replied steadily, looking back to the view below, her eyes being drawn to the mass grave once more. "It is for the living," she stated in explanation to what she realized must have been a bizarre ritual to his eyes, "To reassure them of their charge as warriors, to not mourn the dead, but to respect them, to respect that they died with honor, with a sword in their hand as a warrior should," she then scoffed and narrowed her eyes, getting slightly angered believing such words herself, "But what honor is there in dying for Sauron? This whole war has been fought on a false promise. One I was once blinded by."

He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, causing her to turn her head to him, "What choice did Rhun have?"

"None," the word finding her tongue quickly, knowing too well, "My sword has tasted the blood of many who believed otherwise." She turned around and leaned against the railing, and smiled slightly ashamed, "Apologies, I doubt you sought my company for more dark conversations of my past."

"On the contrary," Legolas said consolingly, noting that it comforted him to hear her admit to being wrong, for recently he heard her provide too many rationalizations to her past actions. "I desire nothing but you to speak to me from the heart."

She placed her hand on top of the one he yet had resting on her shoulder, "You are perhaps the only one who I would do so with," she then looked from the corner of her eye to the field below, as if it was a magnet to her thoughts, "But it surprised you, this ritual?"

"Perhaps," he said, slowly removing his hand from her shoulder and going over to the table to pour some wine, "But then again, it is always unexpected with you."

"A truism since we met," she replied holding her head a little higher to disallow her from sighing in despair, "But everyday we are closer to understanding each other, are we not?" Her voice wavered slightly.

Legolas handed her a filled glass, "We are," he confirmed, though uncertain himself with the questions he continued to mill through.

"To progress then," Vez stated with a brief smile, raising her wine glass to his in order to encourage a toast.

But before he mirrored her actions he added, "To love, that needs not be understood."

There was a pause before she brought the glass to her lips, as she thought as he did that perhaps for them, not understanding was truly the only solution to their differences. Once there, she immediately recognized the scent of the wine. The pungent fragrance brought back memories that forbid her to drink it at first, but she forced herself to tip the glass and allow some of the red liquid to enter her mouth; the sickly sweet taste all too familiar. "Dorwinion," she stated after swallowing, trying to appear unaffected by the thoughts the wine sent coursing through her, though she was sure her reaction elicited attention.

Legolas had taken a sip and recognized her hesitation, "It is my father's preference. I made sure several shipments were reserved for when he is in residence here. It is not of your liking?"

"On the contrary, I used to like it way too much." She took another sip, disallowing this part of her past to intrude her progress moving forward. "The Blue Wizards also hold preference for Dorwinion wine. It is of well-repute in Rhun."

"As it is in Mirkwood, or _Eryn Lasgalen (Wood of Greenleaves) _as it is now named," he corrected himself, a smile showing he was reflecting on the positive transition and re-growth his home forest would soon go through.

Vez put the glass down on the table, "Eryn Lasgalen," she repeated, tracing the glass's rim with her finger, not having heard the realms new name yet, "Perhaps I will see it when its leaves are truly green again," her words trailed slightly while starring at the red liquid inside.

"This wine has stirred memories?" Legolas queried softly.

She looked over at him, realizing she had drifted slightly away from the conversation. She breathed in the crisp air deeply, "It has, but more so a reflection on how far I have come. I have not talked much about my time in captivity or immediately after when Dorwinion wine was the only comfort I sought." Uncomfortable memories from this time had re-surfaced since being held prisoner for suspicion of murdering that man in the Dim Quarters. "I drank to forget that which the Blue Wizards forced back into my mind, to erase acknowledgement of what happened that put in that cell, of my defeat, the loss of my army, of my worthlessness," she then smiled slightly amused, "I remember thinking it was only a matter of time before they handed me over to the West, perhaps even to your father who'd have my head if he were kind."

"You believed you were saved from the dungeons of Dol Guldor only to be executed?" he asked confused.

"Saved by my enemies who would suddenly show me mercy?" She smirked, "Mercy was not an act I understood." He placed his glass down next to hers and moved beside her, her eyes getting caught in his as he did, "Would he?" she asked curiously, trying to address a new topic of interest, "Would your father have had my head?"

He looked at her as if he didn't understand the question, "Of course not," he stammered out, "He is not that kind of king."

"Then what kind of king is he?" she asked, desiring to know more about his father and about Elven rulers before his arrival.

"One that is fair, wise, and beloved by his people," Legolas listed his father's noble attributes; he was a good leader, a just king, as his grandfather Oropher, before him. "And he makes the right choices, even if they are difficult ones. He did once save your life, and release you despite your deeds," he reminded her of the incident in Mirkwood over 500 years ago.

"If not for Elrond's prescient request," Vez corrected him, knowing her kin held part in Thranduil showing her mercy.

"He would not have let an Elf perish on the ground in front of us," Legolas stated, noting her eyes showed skepticism after he did; and perhaps he didn't believe what he said either. Had he not also desired her death, as retribution for the deaths of his fellow guards whose blood stained the sword that lay beside her?

"It was the most irrational decision I made, attacking your Woodland Guard," she said raising an eyebrow, catching Legolas off-guard with the assertion. "You may not agree with my methods as a general, but they always involved putting the lives of my men first. That day in Mirkwood I did not do that. Anger lingered from my defeat at the Battle of the Wold and I overestimated the resolve of my troops against yours. A decision which led to their deaths, and then I was saved by the very people I ordered them to attack. It was a humbling moment for me, and I left Mirkwood vowing to never put my emotions before reason."

"Reason?" He repeated, unsure of her understanding of it; he started to ask, "Your reason rationalizes..."

"Deeds which would be questionable to Elvish ethics," she concluded what he was beginning to say, "I know. To kill one or a handful of men in cold blood order to save the lives of hundreds or possibily thousands, I would do so without hesitation."

"And you would still continue to boast about it," Legolas said concerned; desiring for her to explain her banter with Remi earlier that morning.

"You speak of what you heard this morning? Perhaps of the divinator I poisoned?" She felt as if she could read his mind, knowing remnants of that morning's conversation would linger to later become moments of contention. "It was not only out of contempt that I killed that man. It was winter, snow was beginning to fall and I knew if we did not leave our current location soon, we would not make it through the mountain pass of Kazakyun and my men would freeze to death. For two weeks the man's predictions convinced Öldür and half my army who placed weight in such omens that we should not march. But I would not wait any longer or take more unfounded advice from a man who I suspected had ulterior motives," she then added unconcerned, "And being resourceful, I tried out that poison on him."

Legolas shook his head, for he could sense she held little remorse for this act; that she could too easily excuse her actions via a skewed rationale. "Reasonable to you, but to an Elf it does not appear so. There are always other options besides killing without true provocation." She looked at him, her eyes in contemplation, uncertain if she believed this. He added carefully, "I confess, part of me desired your death upon seeing you, fallen from your horse with my kinsmens' blood staining your clothes and the blade of the sword you tried to grasp onto. You and your men killed ten Woodland guard, each one well-known to me. And then to discover that an Elf did this," he paused looking away, saying with regret, "There has not been Elves killing Elves since the First Age...The king-slayings are a black stain on our history, but by knowing about them we are reminded that one should not take life unnecessarily, especially not for trivial desires like gold or revenge. Even without Lord Elrond's plea for your protection, I do not believe my father would have let a Elf die in front of us. Only evil deserves to be extinguished, and that divinator you poisoned, perhaps he had ulterior motives, but I doubt he was truly evil, and you, you were not evil, only misguided."

"You would not say the same about Orcs," she smirked slightly, trying to appear unmoved, though feeling ashamed for not perfectly subscribing to similar ethics.

"Orcs are not the same. They are soulless creatures whose only intent is to destroy for the whims of their master," Legolas verified, for his kill count of Orcs far surpassed hers.

"And I destroyed for the same master's whims," she responded undeterred in making this connection, "I _was_ evil, deserving of extinguishment. Perhaps not when I laid on the ground dying in Mirkwood. Then I was as you said before, only a child to Elvish eyes, and my crimes were yet meager. But your father was still kind to uphold his code for me."

_Evil_, yes, she would become truly evil, Legolas thought, and evil enough to warrant her death.

She continued, now worried her frankness made her appear to lack remorse when this was not the case. "I may rationalize some of my past deeds, because I believe many of the decisions I made as a general, however reprehensible to your eyes, were for the good of my men," she then admitted solemnly, "And of course, to the detriment of my enemies. Regardless, do not think I misunderstand why I cannot travel with you to the Undying Lands. I know what I did damaged my soul. And I would not boast of that fact."

He closed his eyes briefly, now feeling ashamed that he continued to misunderstand her. He placed his hand on the side of her cheek consolingly, "You are still young. The damage can be undone."

"That is my charge. Please trust me in this," she replied softly, pressing her cheek into his hand, needing his touch. He instinctively brought her towards him and rested his head aside hers.

"I do, Vezely," he said quietly, kissing her temple while holding her head, "I am sorry that my fears continue to cause doubt."

"And my words encourage it," she nuzzled against him, her eyes closed, breathing in his scent, "Perhaps I still hold ethics that make me a bad Elf."

"You have a higher purpose now, and you will make the right choices while fulfilling it," he said in her ear softly, afterwards she turned her head to rest on his shoulder as he embraced her. He knew she continued to have difficulties reconciling her two sides - an Easterling by culture, an Elf by blood; making him further realize her concern over the upcoming arrival of their kin, despite her effort to conceal it. "And do not worry about my father," he added a moment later.

"How can I not be worried?" she asked, pulling away to look upon him, "I have committed the most heinous crime of all. I have stolen his son's heart," words which cause a smile to crack through his serious demeanor.

"You have not stolen anything that I was not already willing to give," he said endearingly, taking her hand which rested on his shoulder and kissing the back of it, as if to apologize for not having a direct answer; that he could not provide her true reassurance. "While I honestly do not know how he will react," he said truthfully looking into her eyes, "I am his only son, his only kin in Middle Earth, and he has always cared about my happiness above all. He once gave me leave to not marry even though he knew marriage was a means to happiness. He allowed me to serve on the Woodland Guard instead of by his side in court, despite it being dangerous. He understood it gave me purpose and made me feel whole. I am sure he will remain reasonable, despite any feelings or disagreements he may have."

"Happiness," Vez stated back the word she knew was not the perfect description of their relationship. "I wish it could be a constant for us. That I did not have to return to Rhun, but could sail away with you to the Undying Lands, that we could truly be happy together."

"It will come to pass," Legolas said assuredly, "And everything will be as it should." He brought his hands on the side of her arms, "Let's go to Ithilien tomorrow, to the forest glen where we spent the afternoon lying in the sun together."

A smile lit her face, "I would like nothing more." The request sent butterflies to her stomach in anticipation - she longed to return to that place with him; one of the few places in Middle Earth that she would describe as perfect.

* * *

**A/N:** **Thranduil will make a**_ fabulous_** appearance in the next chapter! **


	32. Meeting

**Chapter 32 - Meeting**

Vezely's fingers parted a piece of Legolas's golden hair into three small strands and began braiding them with a small smile and blush gracing her face, as she was embarrassed by her sudden desire to do so. The two Elves lounged next to each other under the shade of a great tree in Ithilien, having left Minas Tirith before sunrise to spend the day within the abandoned forests. They had taken a different route that day, finding a new stream to follow, stopping momentarily to eat the lunch they packed and to relax from their exploring.

"I remember when I was a child, my blood father would braid my hair," Vez spoke contently of a past only recently returned to her as she kept her eyes fixed on her finger's task. "About a year before I was taken my hair was as long as yours and I was thrilled the first time he braided it for me. Afterwards I raced to show my mother who immediately told me that I looked lovely. But I told her I did not, that these were warrior braids that father put in my hair." She finished her braiding and ran her fingers down the strand before turning her eyes to his who looked upon her enchanted as she continued, "I had seen some Woodland Guard pass by our small cottage that week and it was then my father told me about King Thranduil and his grand guards who were protectors of the realm. I noted their braids and requested that from that day on, I should also wear braids in my hair. And I did. My father could not go through a morning without braiding my hair."

Warmed by such shared memories, Legolas took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers, saying endearingly with a subtle hint of teasing, "It sounds like you never lost your determination."

She grinned, adding mirthfully, "Or my stubbornness. I liked to run barefoot from the front door straight into this open glen that was around twenty meters from our home. This place reminds me of it. In the fall the whole ground would be littered in leaves and I wanted nothing more than jump in the piles and hide under them all day. Mother would call me home and I would not go," she laughed slightly, getting caught in remembrance which caused Legolas to widen his grin in pure endearment seeing her this way. "She would scold me good when I did come back with my feet filthy, my clothes tattered, and my cold supper yet waiting for me. _Bellethiel_, she'd say, _you are absolutely hopeless_." [_Bellethiel _= _the strong one_]

"Bellethiel?" Legolas asked surprised, turning his head to the side slightly after hearing her call herself that, immediately halting Vez's revelry.

Her face grew pallid, for she was unaware she let it slip, "It was my name," she replied quietly with a brief smile, "The name my blood parents gave me."

Legolas had never thought to ask what her Elf-given name was; its meaning prompted him to say softly, "It is a name well-suited."

She shook her head slightly, not wishing to think the same. Vez had not felt attached to the name upon first remembering it; these memories from her childhood felt distant and unclear. Yet recently moments such as these became more vivid in her recollection and sharing them somehow brought her closer to accepting their reality. "I often wondered if they knew what was going to happen to me, that I was doomed from the start," she said without heavy concern. She knew her father had wanted to depart Middle Earth for the Undying Lands, though Vezely's mother was not yet prepared to leave her homeland. She was a Silvan Elf, not descended from the High Elves for whom it was more common to hear the call to return to Valinor. Despite her father's desire and growing trepidation of staying, the couple would not be put asunder while Vezely was yet a child. "I could sense his fear," she added remembering, "That year I was no longer allowed to go to that glen alone."

"Even if your father knew, no future is ever set," he added encouragingly, "Yours could have been different. Perhaps you would have been a warrior of the Woodland Guard, for there are women who serve."

Vez smirked, saying with slight sarcasm at the thought of this alternate reality, "You mean serve as one of your father's body guards?"

"We are not body guards," he protested, narrowing his eyes on hers in mild contempt of the attribution.

"Alright," she raised her eyebrow before pressing the tip of her index finger playfully to his chest, saying slyly, "But would I have to take orders from you?"

"That you would," he said smugly, tilting his head up slight higher.

"I have never been good at following orders," she remarked mischievously, her hand again finding the braid in his hair.

"You are hopeless," he said mildly teasing.

"Completely," she whispered back biting her lip while again running her finger tips down the braid contemplating something before revealing her thoughts, her eyes yet diverted from his, "Do you think we would have still fallen in love?"

He had just been contemplating this as well, "Perhaps we would already be married," he replied, only desiring to think pleasant thoughts, his eyes roaming her face for her reaction.

A smile formed immediately as she added amused, "With less complications," though behind her amusement she also held some disappointment that it could not be so.

He tilted her chin up to have her eyes on his, having read this hidden regret in her reply, "Not everything is complicated..."

They would continue exploring that section of the forest into the afternoon, again following the stream up current to its source, a tall waterfall that fell from the rock face several meters up. They heard the soothing sound of water crashing into water well before seeing it - a pristine pool with the clouded sky above reflected in its rippling surface.

"This place is beautiful," the words escaped Vezely's mouth hastily, for she had never simply happened upon such a perfect oasis before on her many travels. "I'm going in," she added adamant a moment later, as if the simple joys she experienced that day alongside her partner suddenly made her more carefree and adventurous. She removed her scarf and jacket, dropping them to the ground beside her. When she began unbuttoning her blouse, Legolas, in realization of her plans to fully undress, quickly turned around embarrassed.

"You are not serious?" he inquired shocked by her rash actions while keeping his eyes averted.

Vezely was not deterred by his modesty and removed both her shirt and her trousers, but she decided to leave on her undergarment - a cream-colored, sleeveless slip that covered her to mid-thigh, just for minor decency. Her bare feet effortlessly glided down the large rocks which lined the shore before she quickly jumped into the lukewarm water below.

The sound of the splash caused Legolas to turn back around, only to see her swim to the center of the pool and for her head followed by her bare shoulders to rise above the water. She turned to face him, pushing her now wet hair back from her forehead. "What are you waiting for?" she called to him with a wide smile, noting his awkwardness and indecision on whether to join her, "The water is perfect. I promise you won't regret it!"

"You desire that I lose my honor?" he called back to her unsure, and while he noted she was not completely undressed, what she wore did not do much to cover her, especially when wet.

Vezely's mirthful face suddenly grew serious; she was well aware what she requested of him verged on impropriety for their courtship. But undeterred by these archaic rules of dating, she responded proudly, "Legolas Thranduilion, one of the nine, great warrior of the Third Age, it is impossible for you to lose your honor!" She then grinned once more before turning away from him, hoping the allotted privacy might prompt him to overcome his fear.

Hesitant, Legolas eventually obliged and removed his boots and tunic, but he left his pants on before going in after her.

Vez waited patiently until she heard the splash to turn and face him. As he swam closer to her, she giggled slightly after deciding her intentions. "I doubt you could catch me," she called to him mischievously before taking off towards the waterfall.

He smirked, knowing she desired a chase and that he would never decline a challenge. "Do not think you are the faster swimmer," he replied before following her.

"I am," she added smugly, as she kicked her feet faster, finding her ability to swim again, for it had been ages since doing so. As he caught up to her, she decided to dive below the water and attempt to swim up behind him. He discovered her plan quickly, but instead of using it as an opportunity to catch her, he surrendered, allowing her to put her arms around him from behind. She pressed herself against his back, "I think I caught you," she whispered amused in his ear. He quickly turned and grabbed her waist, but she splashed him in the face, laughing immediately after.

"Oh, so that is how you play?" he smirked with his eyes closed from being splashed, as she swam away laughing.

"Well, I never play fair," she called back to him.

The cat and mouse game ended with Vezely being caught by the foot, and albeit losing she had a wide grin on her face as Legolas lured her in. He noted how youthful and carefree she looked, as if her dark history had been erased and she knew no hardships or troubles aside from a dark cloud and a rainy day. "I surrender," she declared as she allowed herself to be pulled closer to him.

"Say it," his eyes implored hers.

She gave him a smart look before saying only part of what he wanted to hear, "You are a fast swimmer."

"You mean faster," he urged her to admit it.

She then placed her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, "Perhaps I desired for you to catch me all along," she said slyly, throwing him off-guard by her closeness that he couldn't immediately reply to her. A moment of silence more and she asked quietly, "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

He shook his head and pulled her closer to him as his feet worked to keep them both above water. She ran her fingers down his shoulders and around his bare back, feeling the muscles she knew his tunic had hidden. They stared longingly into each other's eyes, breathing heavily before their lips met, the intensity of the connection making Legolas suddenly forget to keep treading to keep them afloat, so they sunk slowly underwater, their bodies still locked together.

They would resurface a few seconds later, grinning and laughing at themselves for such behavior, before looking back into each other's eyes would make them succumb to the desire to be close again. Legolas reached out his hand from the water to push her hair to the side of her forehead before running his fingers over the earrings in her ear and around to the back of her head, swimming closer to her as he did. He then pressed his forehead against hers and whispered regretfully, "We should head back," his nose lighting touching hers.

She nodded slightly, the tip of her nose nuzzling his, adding with quiet regret, "Before the sun goes down," knowing they had told their companions they would return by nightfall and if they did not do as mentioned, it could have prompted unnecessary concern. Both of them, however, desired to remain in Ithilien that night, in each other's arms, away from all other thoughts and responsibilities.

Legolas did not fully avert his eyes from her wet form as she emerged ahead of him from the pool, the slip clinging to her skin, the black ink of her tattoos all apparent on her backside, bearing text of a language he would never learn to read. He noted the undeniable curves of her female form; a woman, not a warrior. She confidently walked in front of him unashamed to be seen with sparse covering. She turned her head slightly and from the corner of her eye she could see him watching her, making her grateful he had moved past his prior discomfort to do so.

"The sun should still be warm enough to dry us," she said turning to him with his dry tunic outstretched in her hand, having picked up a bundle of their clothes from the ground they left them on.

He averted his eyes quickly, and cleared his throat before adding as if undeterred, "Perhaps in the open field." She smiled at his sudden embarrassment, though knowing what she currently was wearing did not leave much to the imagination.

After dressing, they returned to Arod. The white horse stood patiently awaiting their arrival, having grazed all day on green grasses. Once perched behind him, Vezely ran her fingers through Legolas's damp hair and smoothed it back behind his ears, noting it had surprisingly not gotten badly tangled from swimming. His pants were still wet, for not having removed them.

"You do not need these next time," Vez spoke softly in his ear, grabbing hold of the sides of his hips and running her hands down his thighs.

"You are forward," he replied with slight reprimand, looking at her from the corner of his eye, but noting the heat rushing to his cheeks at her implication and touch. He could not deny crossing these boundaries with her intrigued him. They had taken another step in solidifying their relationship, finding the day fulfilling and needed before any guests would arrive in Minas Tirith. Legolas knew the change in population would take him away from being able to spend quality time with her, and she would leave the West shortly after, with a return date unset.

They rode a half hour before spotting a caravan of travelers far off in the distance, heading on the same route. "It cannot be," Legolas stated in disbelief, for his keen eyes could make out the sigil and colors of his kin.

"Elves?" Vez asked uncertain, her eyes squinting as she tried to make out their forms, having no idea where they hailed from.

"It is our kin," Legolas said in elated surprise, having not expected to cross their path or to be so soon reunited with them.

As Legolas prompted Arod to quickly ride towards them, Vezely subconsciously placed her scarf over her head as one would the hood of a cloak, suddenly desiring the anonymity she once had when first crossing West of Rhovanion. The uncomfortable knot in her stomach grew as she could make out their appearances more clearly: the way the late day sun made their long hair shine, how their velvet riding cloaks draped like cascading waterfalls over their slender forms, and the perfection of their posture as they rode; Elves were majestic beings.

Two Elven riders would come to greet them; guards dressed in the perfection that was proper Elven armor. "Lord Legolas," they harkened him, their voices crisp and clear, "It is a joy to see you well."

They would be escorted to the rest of the party, who had halted their trek in order to greet the triumphant prince properly; for tales of his exploits in the fellowship and during the war had traveled home to all his kin. The small group had dismounted their horses, prompting Vezely and Legolas to do the same. Vezely took Arod's reins, lingering close to the white horse's side while Legolas walked ahead of her to be greeted. They all placed the palm of their hands on their chest before slowly extending them forward; an Elvish greeting Vezely had seen before when Haldir and his troops arrived at Helm's Deep. Legolas approach each of them and placed his hand on the side of their shoulder, stopping momentarily and exchanging a more personal recognition and greeting, stating each of their names endearingly as they spoke honoring words to him.

At the end of the line stood his father, a small but undoubtedly proud smile gracing his strong features. On his head, which bore golden locks of a length surpassing Legolas's, he wore a simple silver circlet, while his long coat of bluish silver threads bore a more intricate design - a geometric brocade of branches and stylized leaves. On his side he carried a long sword with a handle of gold inlay, while his hand held onto a carved staff; his fingers also fashioned large rings that looked as twisted branches made of gold.

"Father," Legolas stopped in front of him, placing his hand to his chest and bowing as he brought his hand forward, properly greeting the king of the Woodland Realm. His father then placed a hand to his son's cheek, looking into his son's eyes before embracing him in joyous reunion.

"Son," he said holding him close, grateful to see him alive and well for so much had been uncertain over the past year, "You have honored the realm and made your father very proud."

Vezely, who decidedly remained stationary by Arod's side, was warmed to see these interactions, proving to her that not only did Legolas hold great respect amongst his kin, but there was a great deal of love between father and son.

Thranduil added wondering, "I had not expected to meet you on our path. You have strayed from Minas Tirith with what business at hand?" His blue eyes finally shifted to Legolas's quiet traveling companion, whose distance was not enough to hide his speech from Elven ears; though he was unaware she could now understand the Elven tongue since she had no comprehension of it the last time they met.

"I have spent the day exploring the forests of Ithilien," Legolas began to explain, still elated from having rejoined his kin, "For I have decided to aid Lord Aragorn in its needed restoration," he then turned to the source of his father's other interest, to Vezely, whose eyes were drawn in by Thranduil's stolid stare; his father knew who she was despite the hood covering her Elven features. "Father, this is..."

"Vezely of Rhun," he declared loudly to his people, prompting Vez to swallow the spit in her mouth, before proceeding to remove the hooded scarf from her head, slowly revealing her foreign appearance to those in attendance; they would not be accustomed to seeing an Elf dressed in foreign clothing, with hair shorn extremely short, and gold earrings lining both ears.

"The Elf once banished from our homeland has returned West. Perhaps it needs to be asked whether she would accept retribution for breaking these terms," Thranduil added solidly, saying the latter not expecting her to understand their language.

"I returned by order of the Blue Wizards," Vezely spoke in fluent Elvish, however her slight accent was apparent to them. She released Arod's reins and moved towards him as she explained, "To bear information on the fall of the Easterling Resistance and of the armies amassing for Western campaigns." Once in front of him, she placed her fist on her chest and bowed her head down in Easterling greeting. "I have not forgotten the kindness the king of the Woodland Realm undeservedly showed me, or the terms of my banishment. Death is yet what I deserve," she proceeded to go down on one knee, "I do not ask for forgiveness, but I request pardon for my presence, and continued leave to walk in the West for yet another week before returning from where I came."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed on her kowtowing form, "It appears your fate is not for me to decide," he stated holding his head high, partially grateful to hear she would be returning East, "For such leave you have been given by those I would not question," he was referring to the White Council and Istari, who aided in her release from Dol Guldur and her recovery following.

Vezely bowed her head courteously before returning to her feet, her eyes mark by concern and her breathing suddenly labored as the king stared coldly upon her, for he knew well her past and the dark deeds committed by her hands. It was as if he was telling her he knew she was evil and that she would not be forgiven.

"Father," Legolas interrupted politely; his voice taking his father's harsh eyes away from her.

"We continue our path," Thranduil called out to his companions, not desiring to allot the Easterling Elf anymore time. As the company returned to their horses, Thranduil placed an arm around his son's shoulder, turning him from Vezely and saying personally, "Son, ride by my side and warm me with stories I have only heard second hand. But first," he asked curiously, "You must let me know, why are your pants wet?"

Legolas stalled, uncertain how to word the truth of the past incident; he also suddenly realized he did not know how to divulge the truth of his relationship with Vezely. And introducing they were together by revealing his pants were wet from a half-naked rendezvous in a forest pond perhaps was not the most appropriate way to do so.

"It is my fault," Vezely interrupted from behind them, for she was yet close enough to hear, turning the king's eyes back on her as she briefly exchanged a glance with Legolas. "For crossing a ford with a horse that is not receptive to me. Legolas had to go in the water and pull the animal through."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed, knowing it was an unlikely story from any Elf, who would not only be able to judge nature but also keep in control of a horse regardless. He let it slide, however, caring nothing but to hear his son's voice again. After he turned his eyes from her, Legolas gave Vezely a wide eyed look while Vez tried to communicate back to him that it was better than telling the truth - that they went swimming half naked together.

Vezely returned to Arod, taking the horse's reins and bringing her forward. Legolas jumped upon her saddle, afterwards offering Vezely a hand to sit behind him.

"I will walk," Vez said pleasantly, her demeanor trying to hide any discomfort from before, "Be by your father's side." He looked at her uncertain as she stepped back from the horse, "Go," she added with determination.

Vez watched him ride off to his father's side, and she again lifted her scarf up as a hood over her head. The Elven lords had also mounted their horses and began following their king and prince. She received several brief nods of greeting from them, which she returned in kind; a simple politeness shown to strangers. But she could tell behind the pomp, each of them held a certain amount of suspicion for the corrupted Elf. She allowed herself to fall behind the group, walking alongside the cart at the back, which contained their possessions and personal comforts for their brief stay in Minas Tirith. Legolas looked back at her when he reached his father's side and she returned his glance with a warm smile; hoping to relay that she was content to walk, to not be concerned, and to enjoy catching up with his father. The sun was soon to set, and the travel was slow. It was unlikely they would arrive at Minas Tirith in sunlight.

* * *

_**A/N: Please take a moment to review now or later as you hopefully keep reading. I would love to hear your thoughts. Thank you!**_


	33. Old Friends and a Father's Concern

**A/N: This is completely my interpretation of Thranduil from the sparse bits we have gotten from ****_The Hobbit_**** AUJ, plus sneaks and previews for DoS. It may be wrong come DoS, but hopefully not too wrong! (Like I hope they don't portray him as a bad father!)**

* * *

**Chapter 33 - Old Friends and a Father's Concern**

Riding ahead of the company to travel by his father's side, Legolas's immediate concern and desired topic of conversation was the state of the Woodland Realm, as he asked about the causalities, the full extent of the damage done by the great fire, and the resolve of their people. While his father would rather have heard more about his son's heroic exploits, he understood his need for this information.

"...I feared I would find you sparse on spirit," Thranduil stated truthfully to his son, after finally being relayed some details of his journey with the fellowship and the final battles, "To accompany such evil on its path to destruction and find oneself in continuous peril, one does not emerge the same."

"I am not the same father, but I have not despaired either," Legolas replied assuredly.

"You have the resolve of your bloodline," he said proudly, having not lost his way after his first experience with war and the loss of his father, though it forever changed him and made him untrusting of the world. "And now you have plans to restore a forest?" He asked, curious of his trip to Ithilien.

"I have many plans before I leave these lands," Legolas replied carefully, hoping to divulge an important milestone in his life's trajectory, "I have heard the call."

His father's heart uplifted and saddened at the same time, "Ah, you are being called home. I had not expected this news. I understand now why you did not reply to my letter."

Legolas kept his eyes averted, for this news was not the reason he didn't reply. His father's letter condemned any relations he might seek with Vezely while suggesting he marry another. To have written back, telling him that he heard the call, but also that he desired to wait until Vezely could accompany him, would it not have been inappropriate? Yet now in his presence he realized writing this truth would have been easier than speaking it.

"I expect my request that you betroth the Lady Adele was not taken in spite," he added wondering his son's thoughts for it was a conversation needed to be had, "For I do deem it a highly suitable match and one which should still be considered regardless of your soon departure."

Legolas shifted in his saddle uncomfortably, "Father, I will not marry for political allegiance or because it is deemed by others a suitable match."

Thranduil breathed in heavily through his nostrils, knowing it would not be easy overcoming his son's steadfast determination or ideals; for he had forsaken political partnerships long ago, but still had not fallen in love either. "You yet desire solitude," he stated calmly, "I was once the same until I met your mother. Even in her physical absence I feel whole. That is why I request you do not push aside the possibility of finding there is truth behind my belief in Lady Adele's aptness."

Legolas now noted his father's true persistence in pursuing this courtship on his behalf; persistence he had not expected from him. Any possibility for reply was cut short by the hailing of two Gondorian guards, who had rode out to greet and escort the caravan into the city, turning his father's attention.

"Ah," Thranduil mused, "We arrive at dusk and just in time for supper." He looked over at his son, "There is time to discuss this further. And when you meet her, perhaps then you will understand my reasoning."

Legolas nodded politely, feeling ashamed he could not forthrightly tell his father the truth; that now he truly worried how to handle what would undoubtedly be a bitter reaction. He also believed now was not the time to discuss this matter either, for it required a more private setting.

Deciding it would be dutiful of him, he offered to ride ahead and make sure all was prepared in the guest villa for their arrival; a gesture appreciated by his father. But instead of going forward towards Minas Tirith, he first rode to the back of the column where Vezely was walking, her head partially hooded by her scarf, her arms crossed in front of her, and her eyes watching the prince ride to her side and once there outstretching his hand for her to join him. She grasped it without hesitation, but she did not wrap her hands around his waist as she always did when they rode together and instead held onto the sides of the saddle. She exchanged a brief glance with his father as they rode passed, noting again that his eyes were difficult to read. The king, however, shifted with slight discomfort over witnessing his son's closeness with this Elf as they passed. He had not bothered to ask why Vezely of Rhun accompanied him to the forests of Ithilien. Though he could not believe his son could hold anymore than feelings of friendship towards her. And he would be sailing West to the Undying Lands and she would be returning East from whence she came. Their paths were divergent, thus she should hold no worries in his mind, yet his eyes continued to watch them, wearily and uncertain.

Realizing the lack of her touch, Legolas grabbed her hands and placed them around his waist.

"You told him?" Vezely asked assumingly, with a great desire to hear details.

"I did not find the right opportunity," he replied frankly, prompting Vez to pull her hands away, but he would not let her and kept a hold of one of them. "I will tell him tonight," he said determined as he intertwined his fingers over hers and pressed her hand closer to his chest, reminding himself that his love for her was not something to be ashamed of, nor something to fear his father's disapproval of.

"If the opportunity does not present itself," Vez stated, thinking through the implications, "My suggestion to keep such feelings hidden should remain an option. If not to your father, then at least to the rest of your kin."

"Vezely," his tone slightly scolding her for proposing this again, "That is still not an option suitable for me."

Vez closed her eyes momentarily, trying not to sigh from disappointment in her inability to persuade him from his decided task, one which she believed would cause more strife than necessary. While the lukewarm reception she just received from his father and the ambassadors of Mirkwood was not disastrous or necessarily unkind, neither was it pleasant or without the expected suspicion. She wrapped her other hand around him and leaned into an embrace, holding him to apologize for this difficulty wrought on her behalf. _If only there were less complications_, she thought solemnly, soaking in his warmth and breathing his scent, _and we could spend every day by each other's side and feel as carefree as we felt today_.

"It will be alright," he said softly, squeezing her hand for reassurance, as if knowing her troubled thoughts needed comfort.

...It would soon be learned that the ambassadors from the city of Dale and the dwarf ambassadors from Erebor had also arrived that afternoon. The announcement of Legolas's kin's soon arrival prompted more busied preparations at the guest house as the maids hurried off to make sure all was in order in the West Wing.

Vezely returned to her quarters with Legolas's bow and quiver set in her hands, since Legolas would have no time to return to his room. She decided to change out of her traveling attire into another Rhunic garment she purchased from the marketplace shop. It was more representative of her usual Easterling attire: a pair of loose black trousers and an open, knee-length overcoat with wide sleeves and fitted sleeveless tank underneath; all cinched in at the waist with large sash. The embellishments were minimal - some bronze arabesque designs stitched along the hemlines - but with the addition of the gold earrings lining her ears and the few rings she had left after trading in most for coin, more details were unnecessary. The alternating hues of blacks and dark blues were also more characteristic of what she would choose to wear in Rhun, and she felt even more appropriate currently; feeling like a black sheep amongst the free people of the West and now, especially amongst her kin.

She overheard Legolas return across the hallway, though not alone. He was accompanied by his life-long friend Thalion, who, like himself, served many centuries on the Woodland Guard despite being Sindarin high born. Behind them were two porters carrying a large trunk of the prince's garments, which his father had packed for him. Inside would be his coronation robes as well as other robes to wear to the upcoming council meetings. Legolas was grateful to soon have alternate attire, having worn through his few tunics that accompanied him on his journey.

"...Besides your heroism," Thalion mused once inside Legolas's quarters, having thoroughly enjoyed hearing the Elf prince's exploits first hand, "There are other rumors circulating."

Legolas was in the midst of opening the trunk when Thalion spoke, making him release the lid back down, "Such as?" He asked appearing intrigued though uncomfortable with certain possibilities.

"Of your betrothal to a certain lady of Lothlorien," Thalion stated with one eyebrow raised, having heard rumors that the Mirkwood heir would wed the niece of Lord Celeborn in celebration of their victory and newly forged alliance.

"There has been no acceptance of this match on my part," Legolas stated forthrightly, "It is my father's scheme."

"Yet she is well-suited for you. I have met her recently," Thalion explained, leaning against the windowsill and crossing his arms, "Her beauty is unparalleled. Hair past her waist that's the color of sunshine on a cloudless day, eyes the color of sapphires, a voice like a songbird, and poise and grace that puts many Elf-maidens to shame. And she has a fondness for the Elf-prince, when once you met."

Legolas looked at his friend doubtfully, "I do not recall meeting her."

Thalion smirked, "Ah, it was when we spent those long months in Rivendell, at request of your father to study ancient texts," he said to jolt his friend's memory to many centuries past.

Legolas noted that perhaps he had met her, though she left him without a lingering impression. Regardless, I will not marry her," he stated unconcerned, as he returned his attention to the trunk, opening it to find his casual robes, "And by the sound of your praise for her, perhaps you would be a better suitor."

"Perhaps I would," Thalion said amused, but then added warmly, "Though I would not deny a trusted friend the possibility of finding love when it is much deserved."

Legolas went to place a hand on his friend's shoulder, "You are and having always been a good friend," he said with sincerity, "A statement much needed to be said before I leave these shores for our people's homeland."

"My friend," Thalion said surprised, his eyes wavering on his, "You have been called? When do intend to leave?"

"Not for some time," Legolas stated truthfully, returning to the chest to retrieve the garment he would wear for supper, "For one, I have agreed to help restore the forests of Ithilien for King Elessar."

Not desiring to back down on the topic of his friend's heart, and now assuming his disinterest in betrothing Lady Adele was mostly due to his departure plans, he added, "Such tasks need not be done in solitude. Perhaps fair Lady Adele would aid you in this task and then accompany you across the great sea."

Legolas turned to his friend, the long garment now draped over his arm, "My desire to leave these shores is not the reason I will not marry Lady Adele."

Thalion looked at him skeptically before he left for the other room to change. During this time, a light knock at the door came and Thalion went to answer it, assuming it was a house maid bearing information. On his way down the long entryway, however, he would find the door opening on its own and Vezely stepping inside, as the two Elves had grown accustomed to entering each other's unlocked chambers with little more than a slight knock. Vezely also believed Legolas was either gone, as she heard people depart, not knowing it was only the porters, or still there, but alone.

"Legolas?" she called as she stepped inside only to be halted in her tracks, almost dropping Legolas's bow and quiver set in her hand as she saw Thalion standing before her, his eyes narrowing as memories of his brother who was killed in the ambush her troops provoked rang through his mind.

"Apologies," Vezely spoke politely, flashing a brief smile, hoping to display she was undeterred by his unexpected presence and subsequent cold state, "I planned on returning these to Legolas. I did not know he had company."

Realizing his manners were amiss, Thalion regained his composure, saying pompously, "_Lord_ Legolas is occupied at the moment," placing an emphasis on _lord _as if to teach her proper etiquette when addressing Elvish hierarchy.

Vez stifled a small laugh and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Very well then," she replied unimpressed, "I can come back another time."

Legolas, having dressed quickly, came down the entryway, his bronze velvet robes swaying as he walked, "Vezely, this is my friend Thalion." His garments reminded Vez of the richly crafted robes that Lord Elrond wore upon meeting her at Dunharrow. She momentarily stared at him in awe, admiring his grand appearance before realizing he had introduced his friend by name.

"Thalion, pleasure to meet you," she spoke a second later, her eyes shifting back to the brown haired elf, maneuvering the bow and quiver in her hands to freely allow her to put her right fist to her chest and bow her head down in an Easterling greeting.

Thalion greeted her with a slow and polite nod of the head, while Legolas retrieved the burdens from her hands, "I have known Thalion since I was a child," he spoke endearingly of his friend while placing his quiver set on the entryway's side table and leaning his bow against the wall, "We served on the Woodland Guard together, but now he is one of my father's advisors."

Noting his friend's mute discomfort and desiring to ease it by forcing herself to make friendly conversation, Vezely stated, "Guard to advisor. That is a lifestyle change. Was there impetus for it?"

Thalion's cold eyes roamed her face as he stated directly, "The death of my brother."

"My condolences," Vez replied with some sincerity, noting now that Legolas was giving Thalion a troubled stare, this connection having been momentarily remiss in his memory. The awkward silence prompted Vez to make her exit, "I take my leave. Nice meeting you, Thalion." She shared a brief apologetic glance with Legolas, adding to it a polite nod and in order to appear as if she was not too casual around him, stating in farewell, "_Lord _Legolas."

After she left, Thalion asked his friend, "Is there reason why you have befriended this Elf to the extent that she would disrespectfully enter your room uninvited?"

Legolas could understand his friend's antagonism, for he lost his brother the day her band of Balchoth entered Mirkwood. How he could have forgotten such a connection, he did not know. But he needed to defend her, saying with care, "She is making amends and everyday strives towards them," concern was apparent in his voice, "And she was born in the forests of Mirkwood, our kin should not forsake her." Though Legolas noted after that what he said did not necessarily answer the question of Vez's casual entry into his room.

Thalion looked at his friend concerned, "Your heart is truly filled with kindness for the less fortunate, but your mind has not weighed balance to it."

"You do not know her," Legolas stated calmly.

"And you do?" Thalion asked doubtfully, though not conceiving of the possibility of there being more than a mutual friendship between the two. Thalion then placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I will not question your kind heart my friend, for having been just reunited, may our conversation tonight be filled with only joyous words in celebration of a future of peace and hopefully, for your sake, one of love," he winked while opening the door so they could depart for the West Wing, where in the courtyard a small feast was laid out for the travelers to enjoy.

* * *

"I trust everything is satisfactory," Gandalf spoke to Thranduil courteously, holding a just filled glass of heady Dorwinion wine in his hand.

"Very much so," he stated grateful for the space allotted to his kin. His attention soon turned upon his son entering alongside Thalion, dressed in the robes he had brought from home. As he added considering, "For I would stay in far more meager establishments if it meant a chance to be alongside my son once more."

Both he and Gandalf stood from their seats as Legolas approached them, his father placing a hand on his shoulder, his face gracing a warm smile. "Gratitude for these comforts, father" Legolas said in recognition of his changed attire.

After providing a courteous nod, Thranduil stated considering, "They suit you, as now there appears to be less need for warrior attire." A server with a tray of filled wine glasses passed by them, and Thalion and Legolas both took one as his father held up his own to prompt a toast, "To an era of peace."

"Yes, to peace," Gandalf added, cheerfully raising his own glass, "May it endure in Middle Earth and also find its way to the lands East of here," his eyes settling on Legolas's, who felt the wizard could sense the uncomfortable situation he would soon find himself in with his father.

The discussion moved on from polite conversation over their travel there to going over the days and following day's arrivals before the week's many meetings would commence. Thranduil informed Gandalf that Lord Celeborn and the Lothlorien ambassadors would undoubtedly be arriving tomorrow, having left a day after them. Lord Elrond and his small company would also be arriving, as would King Eomer and his advisors from Rohan. Then with everyone in attendance, a great feast would be held in the great hall to welcome all that night.

Before Gandalf left the group, hoping to make his way to at least one more gathering that evening in order to be a polite host, he asked Legolas curiously, having noted her absence, "...Legolas, I had presumed Vezely would have accompanied you. I have some important information to give her," for having been in conversation with the ambassadors from Dale and Erebor that afternoon.

Legolas tried to hide his disappointment that Vezely could not freely be by his side as Gandalf assumed; that indeed, she had not been invited.

"What business does one have with this _Elf_?" Thranduil asked slightly interrupting, looking from his son to Gandalf; his intonation of Elf showing he was skeptical of her worth being mentioned.

"One which the peace we toasted depends on," Gandalf remarked with conviction, "For the East is now in disarray and will need resettling before we can truly assure peace between our borders."

"With Sauron destroyed, is the East not at peace?" Thalion asked carefully.

"Far from it," Gandalf stated in a drawn out tone, "Though I am no expert on the matter of Rhunic politics, this _Elf_, however, is, and has her work cut out for her. As we are here toasting to peace, she will soon be setting out for war." Thranduil's eyes narrowed, concerned that his borders were not as safe as he had assumed. "In any case, she has been granted invitation to the first council and allowance to question the ambassadors of Dale and Erebor on matters pertaining to the Easterlings' defeat. I was hoping to tell her this tonight, but perhaps, Legolas, you can relay this to her on my behalf," implying he knew the two Elves would be in each other's company soon enough, "I'm sure it will be well received," he added with a small smile. Vezely had discussed with him her desire to meet with these ambassadors and Gandalf graciously offered to be the middleman. And he did more than simply get her a private meeting; he got her access to the introductory council meeting, where all ambassadors would share general information about the war and recovery in their region, thinking such knowledge could be useful.

"It will indeed be. Thank you, Gandalf," Legolas replied politely, being grateful on Vezely's behalf since he knew her desires for this.

"Now, if you will pardon my exit," Gandalf excused himself, though not before quickly consuming the rest of the wine in his glass.

As Gandalf left, Thranduil considered not only the information pertaining to the East's disjuncture and what he considered the impropriety of having Sauron's former ally at one of the official council meetings, but also he wondered about Gandalf's insinuations: that it was unexpected for Vezely to not have accompanied his son, and that his son could relay this information to her on his behalf, as if again it was expected they'd be in each other's company.

"It is a bit presumptuous to offer invitation to a non-official," Thalion stated after Gandalf left, considering it similarly as Thranduil did, "You would think they would provide all parties a chance for approval."

Legolas stated judiciously, "Her need is to question the ambassadors from Dale and Erebor. She will not be given leave to speak to other parties, so there should be little concern over her presence."

"I believe what Thalion refers to is simply the nature of her presence offering impudence," Thranduil stated calmly, "For was she not sided with the enemy?"

Legolas breathed in. "Was," he released the word with his breath, feeling defeated as he gained a better sense of the obstacles Vezely had to go through, and now finding his father's eyes upon him conspicuous of his defense of her.

Thalion, being one to prefer cheer over disagreement, stepped in, "Your son, my lord, is of a truly kind heart to have befriended one of such reputation."

"My lord," another ambassador interrupted the trio politely, acknowledging that he and some others were retiring to their rooms to rest for the evening, prompting Thranduil to address all his kindred, expressing his hopes for them to be refreshed before the busy days to come.

"I will also take my leave," Thalion added in cheerful tone, "For rest is a reward after a long spate of travel."

As Thalion left, Legolas walked side by side with his father, "I do hope you find the guest room amenable," decidedly changing the subject.

Thranduil nodded in confirmation, before asking, "Is there reason why you continue your residence on the other side of the villa?"

"It seemed unnecessary to move after so many weeks there," Legolas replied, seemingly unconcerned by the question though wondering whether his father was testing him for certain answers.

Before the room's entrance, Legolas hesitated whether to follow him inside, as if to freely invite the inevitably awkward conversation he anticipated, but the decision was soon made for him.

"There are matters we should discuss," his father stated walking inside, expecting his son to easily follow. Thranduil leisurely took off his gold and jewel rings, placing them on the den's side table, afterwards unclasping his cloak, which Legolas politely took from him to hang in the wardrobe. The king contemplated his words before speaking any, not knowing that the silence was making his son uncomfortable. "While I am understanding of the close friendship you've developed with a dwarf, as another member of the fellowship, and happy to overlook the travel plans you have set with this companion following the coronation," having heard that before returning home, Legolas intended to travel with Gimli to further explore Fangorn Forest and the caves of Helm's Deep, "Your closeness and willingness to openly defend this Elf from the East, I cannot with good conscious continue to condone."

"Father," Legolas tried to interrupt, but Thranduil was not finished.

"You have already been seen by your kin alongside her, and our people may understand this as a token of your kindness, a gesture of goodwill perhaps, but when the ambassadors from Lothlorien and Imladris arrive, I do not want to prompt further associations."

Legolas closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, discontent with what his father appeared to be suggesting, "And you would have me disassociate myself."

"Is such a request so difficult?" Thranduil said unconcerned, "Or without reason in such times when peace should be the focus of everyone's discussion."

Legolas's replied carefully, "Such a request is impossible."

"Impossible? I am not asking you to break a friendship, for I again understand that one could develop in times of war. But simply ask that you refrain from being in her sole accompaniment and from openly defending her in conversation. You have built an honorable reputation for yourself, do not cheapen it by false rumors," he stated calmly.

Legolas engaged his father's eyes, "And what rumors are you afraid will circulate?"

Thranduil sat down on one of the room's cushioned chairs, taking a moment to compose himself before speaking. He looked away from his son while asking on a delicate subject still troubling him, "You tell me, for lies seem to flow freely from her tongue, and I would only hear the truth," he stated before looking back upon his son interrogatingly, "Your pants were not wet from an obstinate horse."

Legolas breathed in uncomfortably, his feet moving him to the chair alongside his father's, noting he was unable to look him in the eye as he sat down. He explained, "No, they were not. She only lied about the horse because she also fears for my reputation, and of your disappointment. That if you knew we went swimming together in a forest pond..."

"Yet her clothes were not wet," Thranduil interrupted with mild discomfort at its implication." Legolas kept his eyes averted, noting he felt ashamed to have his father point this out. "I heard from Lord Elrond that you may hold affection for her, but I could not in good conscious believe that my son...Tell me the truth," he said getting mildly angered, "What is the nature of your relationship with this Elf?"

"I never desired your resentment," Legolas remained calm, sensing his father's wavering emotions, "Nor did I intend to find feelings where I would not expect them, or for one who I once held the same mistrust of as you do now. But in our short time together, regardless of how hard I tried to deny it, my heart had already decided."

Not persuaded by what he heard and with his stern eyes yet averted, he father replied darkly, "It is not mistrust that I hold for Vezely of Rhun, but disgust. I do not believe you fully comprehend who it is your heart professes this supposed devotion to," he tried to reason on his behalf, "She has seduced you into this, you have been naive, led to believe..."

"Father," Legolas interrupted, slowly shaking his head disheartened, "I am more than aware of the blood that stains her hands, of who she was, for she has told me darker deeds than I care to ever share."

"And yet you can still hold such feelings?" His father stated in disbelief, "I cannot condone your actions."

"You cannot deny my heart. Do not ask me to forsake her. Because by doing so, you ask that I should despair," he said carefully. His father's eyes quickly moved to his, noting the strength behind the meaning to his words.

"And how do you intend not to when the one you love is barred from crossing the great sea?" Having heard these details from Lord Elrond.

"She is not barred from redemption," Legolas replied carefully, "And I will wait as long as it takes for her to cross by my side."

Despite his contempt for the situation, Thranduil could not deny his son's soul-bearing determination. He closed his eyes and brought a hand to his brow, squeezing his temples as if to nurse a sudden headache. He had only ever wanted what was best for his son, and now with evil truly rescinded he desired nothing more than for him to experience true bliss, a life without pain, and a loving partnership, having been hopeful he would find it with Lady Adele. Now he could see nothing but sorrow in his son's future. He was not convinced that Vezely of Rhun was worth it, that she was deserving of his son's affections, or that she offered him anything more than uncertainty. She could not truly love his son, he reasoned, for how could one so corrupted ever love wholeheartedly.

"Do not fear for me, father," Legolas broke the silence, his hand clasping the side of the chair his father sat in, "For I have found love. Unexpected, yes, but it is true. With your blessing or not, Vezely and I will be together because I do not believe either of us can now exist apart." He removed his grip and stood as his father remained unresponsive. He decided it best to leave, and allow him to contemplate all that was revealed this night, to give him time.

* * *

Vezely and Legolas promised when departing each other earlier to meet again that evening, at their usual conversation spot on the their side of the villa. Vez went there early and sat on the wide stone ledge of the veranda, precariously dangling her legs over the outer side. She should have been content to gaze up at the night sky; tracing the star's alignments and getting lost in the voids surrounding their light, but her mind would not settle. When she first crossed Rhovanion, she could not stop looking at the stars, for Shadow covered much of Rhun's skies as Sauron's power grew. The night sky had become a black void with only the moon's light finding its way to the ground. She assumed the star's light was again visible; that the same sky she gazed upon tonight would be the one that she could gaze upon once back in Rhun.

As her departure date grew closer, Vezely felt on the cusp of two desires: to live a life alongside her companion, carefree and content as she was today, but to also continue her trade as a warrior; a charge which gave her purpose. Yet she also realized that without pursuing the latter, the former could not be obtained; in order to redeem herself and truly live in peace with the one she loved, she must continue on the path of a warrior. There was some stability in that truism, she thought slightly hopeful, for it helped validate in her mind the urge she had to place sword in hand and go where its use was needed. The Balchoth in her had not left her, even if she had lost her beloved horse and her weapons - her sword broken by Öldür's axe at the Battle of Pelennor Fields, and her sais discarded or, as the healers said, recycled back into Minas Tirith's vast armory during her stay at the Houses of Healing. Vez planned to go to the market in the morning and find a blacksmith she could negotiate with, since she found herself short on coin and with returning to the Dim Quarters appearing to be an ill-suited option after the last time, she feared returning to Rhun with only the bows and arrows Faramir authorized.

"I recall that evening, when I first saw you staring up at the stars," Legolas said softly coming to her side, stirring her from her contemplative state as she turned her body to face him, swinging her legs over to dangle inside the ledge.

She smiled warmly in remembrance, stating amused, "And I queried whether you desired to start an argument."

Legolas's somber demeanor cracked a smile, as he lightly placing his hands on her knees after he stopped in front of her, "I had given you no reason to think otherwise."

She smirked, placing her hands on top of his and saying slyly, hoping to cheer him up, "I do recall some cold stares, telling me that I should not dare make one mal move before the prince of Mirkwood."

He laughed slightly, finding he enjoyed her mild teasing and the way she often took the initiative to force his apprehensive touch. She had taken his hands and placed them at her waist as she jumped down in front of him, her back leaning against the cold stone ledge, her fingers running down the sides of his robe's collar, tugging him ever so slightly as invitation to come closer to her.

She then looked upon him with seriousness, saying concerned, "I do not desire to be stared upon as such by you ever again."

"It is no longer possible," he replied softly, his eyes drawn into hers, as he gently brushed the side of her face with the back of his fingers and leaned in to kiss her forehead, realizing apologetically that he could not save her from the cold stares she received today from the rest of his kin.

Before Vezely cuddled closer to him, she asked wondering, "Perhaps we should spend the evening inside. We do not need to risk being seen."

"None will follow me here," he replied to her unconcerned, now taking the initiative to draw her into his embrace, "And my father now knows."

She moved back from him in order to look upon his face, seeing in his eyes a bitter removal though she had read his discontent upon arrival, "And he does not approve," she stated carefully.

"It does not matter," he replied quickly, trying to brush it off.

"It matters," Vezely affirmed her conviction, her hand going softly to the side of his face as she engaged his eyes with hers, "He is your father and it is your reputation."

"It also matters to me how you are perceived and treated," Legolas wanted to defer attention from him.

"Legolas, I have earned such treatment," Vezely replied firmly, "Cold stares and harsh words, they do not bother me."

"But should I not defend you?" Legolas implored, thinking of how his father desired him not to, "How else to prove that you are not who you were? That you deserve to be treated as friend, not foe."

Vezely look away from him momentarily, touched by his desire to defend her, but unconvinced that it would do any good, "Regardless of every good deed I do, the world will not forget who I was. It is the life I must lead, part of the price I must pay for my sins. I cannot hide from my past, nor should I. And your father is right; you should not openly defend me, for it only marks you as naive."

Legolas then realized her point, "We are back to your suggestion, to keep our relationship a secret."

"This has hurt your father. By furthering knowledge of us, it may only grieve him more," she replied sincerely, "For his reputation is also at stake."

"He just needs time," Legolas stated with false hope; still not convinced in taking this route of secrecy.

Vezely nodded to agree, as if knowing he needed her to believe time would change things, "And I will talk to him, if he is willing to hear me," Vez added, wanting an opportunity to explain her side. Legolas looked down, disheartened by their current predicament. Vezely lifted his chin, "Do not despair," she smiled slightly, "For we still find ourselves in each other's arms." Her look was infectious, able to pick him back up and resettle him with hope. His father just needed time, he thought bringing her closer to him; he will understand...

* * *

**_A/N_****: Thank you to all my steadfast reviewers (you know who you are). I love reading your comments, thoughts, and critiques. And I would love to hear from more of you, so please take a moment to review and let me know what you think. :)**


	34. Many Greetings

**Chapter 34 - Many Greetings**

Vezely gritted her teeth and clinched her fist at her sides, forcing her feet to move back to the door rather than bust the teeth from the blacksmith's mouth. The bearded, potbellied man refused to offer his services to a woman, regardless of how much coin she could provide him. "Why would I waste my labor on a show piece?" he laughed at her, believing a sword had no other use than decoration for a female client. Yet as he continued to cackle and spout rude chauvinistic remarks, Vez couldn't keep her mouth shut. She pivoted at the doorway and spoke darkly before exiting, "It is a pity I do not have one of my show pieces on me today, for it would look lovely lodged in the side of your skull."

It was the third blacksmith she had visited that morning, all equally uninterested in offering their services; the first two refusing when she attempted to bargain down to a price her purse could afford.

Back on the streets she would find the locals gathered along the city's main pathway, excited as if they expected a parade to pass by. As she got closer she realized they were awaiting the arrival of another caravan of guests - Elves. She stood behind the front row, her black scarf hooded over her ears, watching as they rode past on their regal horses, their heads held high, draped in riding cloaks of silver and ice blue, many with hair the color of the moon. They were not the Elves from Rivendell, for Lord Elrond was not amongst them, thus she deduced they hailed from Lothlorien.

The Elves remained composed on top of their steeds, staying aloof to the gawking of the onlookers who stood in awe of the graceful beings passing them. Vez was not necessarily as impressed as the Gondorians seemed to be, but it was a novel sight to her eyes to see more of those whose race she called her own. Unexpectedly, one of the Elves' eyes fell upon her; an Elf with silver hair and a face etched, even if only subtlety, by the lines of time. He locked eyes with her as he rode past and narrowed his focus, unsteadying Vez's breath at first. It was as if he knew she was out of place in that crowd; that he could see past her disguise and stare into her very essence. Disliking the feeling his gaze evoked, she returned her own, narrowing her eyes suspiciously on him though it provoked no change in his demeanor as he passed her; no, he kept flawlessly poised and detached.

Vez had already visited the prison earlier, and while at first relieved to find no new developments or what she deemed as concerns after meeting with the Captain, her brief meeting with Remi led her to believe otherwise. According to him, there had been more talk of challenging her leadership from the few higher ranked warriors; those not content to be led by a member of the former resistance. The timing of this possible coup concerned her since she could not fathom Faramir allowing the challenge ritual to take place on prison grounds; seeing how it is a fight to the death. Nor did she desire to spill more Rhunic blood on Western soil. Her plan was to address all the Variags and few Haradrim on the information obtained following her attendance at the first council meeting, which she was grateful Gandalf negotiated her access to. Perhaps then she could dissuade such actions from taking place or bring them to the forefront. In any case, it brought her mind extra unease.

The only other stop that morning was to find a pair of boots. With a new sword seemingly out of the question, she could at least now afford ones of higher quality. She settled on a knee-high pair, cognac in color with flexible soles. They were of a more premium leather than her previous ones and fit her better, realizing as she walked from the door the difference in comfort level a well-made pair could offer. She would head back to the villa with at least one accomplishment, she thought, as she gladly sullied their clean soles, though it did little to relieve her lingering displeasure over failing to commission a new weapon.

She flipped back her hood as she entered the villa's grand entrance, as a courtesy to the house maids who greeted her politely. Making her way to the kitchen hall, hoping to meet the hobbits during their "second breakfast" thinking their company would cheer her mood, she had not expected to encounter a large gathering within the central courtyard; a space she had no choice but to cross. There the newly arrived ambassadors from Lothlorien were being welcomed by the Elves of Mirkwood, who must have met them there instead of at the main entrance of the villa. Legolas and his father were amongst them.

That morning Legolas acted civil around his father, neither of them bringing up the conversation from the night before. Legolas did not desire to provoke an argument, and Thranduil was not ready to forfeit his position. Lord Celeborn greeted them with his niece, Lady Adele, by his side, courteously introducing her to Legolas without knowledge that the desired proposal of courtship could never be. Legolas noted that Lady Adele was as everyone continuously stated - poised, with beauty that almost rivaled that of Lady Galadriel, and when she spoke, the sound of her words charmed all those around her.

"It is pleasure to meet the honorable prince of Eryn Lasgalen," Lady Adele fluttered her eyes on his, as she gracefully held her hand out to be more personally greeted.

Legolas took it within his, bowing his head down to kiss the back of it as was expected. He noted the softness of her skin as if her hands were hardly used, "As it is to meet you, Lady Adele" he added politely.

It was then that Lord Celeborn cleverly led Thranduil away from the couple, but not before a father exchanged a stern look with his son, reminding him of his disapproval of current affairs. This led Lady Adele to initiate the conversation when she noted that the Elf-prince's eyes were turned towards his father when she desired them to be on her, "I must confess. I should have said it is a pleasure to meet you again, for we have met once before."

"Yes," Legolas replied trying not to hide his current displeasure in his father as he slowly turned his eyes to her, "At Imladris."

"You remember," she smiled brightly, cheered to hear it, for she remembered meeting him fondly. Legolas nodded politely, not mentioning it was his friend Thalion who reminded him. She added, "I was saddened I did not have a chance to farewell you when you stayed in Lothlorien when you passed through on your journey with the fellowship. I do hope your stay there was comfortable..."

Vez cursed herself quietly in Easterling at her timing, as she contemplated turning around and heading back to the markets rather than be spotted and forced to introduce herself to another cohort of Elves. Mostly she desired to avoid causing a scene for the sake of Legolas and his father, though she also did not favor their eyes upon her. Taking a chance, she stayed along the outside corridor, walking quickly and hoping all were too involved in their conversations to take notice to her passing.

"You," a commanding voice called crisply over to her; a voice she could not ignore as she turned her head to see it came from the same Elf whose eyes stared her down in the marketplace earlier. She turned towards him and crossed her arms as he walked over to her, her eyes suspicious as to his purpose.

As he stood before her, searching her face, she felt as if he could look into her past. Like Lord Elrond's, his blue-grey eyes exuded a depth of wisdom gleamed from ages of experience. He spoke to her slowly, "You have done terrible things," a statement recognizing who she was.

Her eyes glanced beyond him, realizing all in the courtyard had turned their heads to see their interaction. Only the Mirkwood Elves knew exactly who she was, for having met her yesterday and being familiar with her background due to Thranduil's involvement. With the exception of Lord Celeborn, the Lothlorien Elves would have only vaguely heard of her, if at all.

Vez held her head slightly higher, undeterred by such a statement or garnering interest, replying solidly, "And you have done great things. Yet my deeds, terrible as they seem, have also been deemed great."

He pondered her words, finding in them a strange riddle of conflicting worldviews, finding it slightly intriguing, as well as her presence curious, "What makes _Nwalmaer_ a guest of the king soon to be crowned?"

"Her name is Vezely," a kind but commanding voice called from down the corridor, its owner garbed in midnight blue robes and golden embellishment walking briskly towards them. Gandalf was by his side and other ambassadors from Imladris not far behind. The dark haired Elf continued to speak, "The only daughter of Elured, the lost son of Dior and Nimloth," and then adding after stopping in front of her with a small smile, "And my cousin." His speech confirmed to all in attendance the hierarchical bloodline she descended from, which for most who had heard of her, had only been based in rumors.

"Lord Elrond," Celeborn bowed his head politely, the rest of the guests doing the same for the great leader.

Vezely greeted Elrond by bowing her head down with her fist to her chest, not expecting he would put his hand on her shoulder in more personal greeting, prompting her to look back up at his wise eyes. He acknowledged the light returned to her and the ear once severed reformed; she had accepted the grace of the Eldar, choosing immortality instead of the gift of man. He smiled upon her, a brief smile she returned before he turned towards the others, momentarily keeping his hand on her shoulder before going to greet them.

Vez glanced with slight bewilderment at Gandalf who knew Lord Elrond helped her out right there, a deed she did not expect nor believed to have deserved. Her eyes then shifted briefly to Legolas, who stood next to an Elf-maiden who was by all descriptors beautiful - long blonde hair, pale skin, in a milky blue dress of the highest refinery that seemed to cascade down her perfectly poised, svelte form. The assumption that this was his "perfect match" according to his father easily entered her mind. Legolas softly smiled back at her, his eyes displaying relief that the situation didn't escalate, and Vez's displaying gratefulness that it didn't also.

Before leaving, she approached Gandalf to personally thank him for granting her access to the opening council meeting, having been told by Legolas the night prior. The wizard brushed it off saying she needed all the information she could gather in order to report on the West's situation to the Blue Wizards. Then noting she sought to make an escape, Gandalf implored, "You should stay. These are your people."

Replying skeptically, "They are ambassadors and I am not."

"On the contrary," Gandalf added in drawn out tone, "I would think you stand as an ambassador from the East."

"I am not sure that makes it any less precarious," she added dryly, looking upon the group thinking of the absurdity of her going and mingling with them.

Gandalf shrugged, not necessarily denying her right to insecurity, "Well you are invited to the welcoming feast tonight. I do hope you attend."

"I will," she conceded, nodding politely to Gandalf before turning to leave, glancing upon the three Elven leaders who stood together conversing. She knew they represented three of the most powerful Elves in Middle Earth; if they deemed it so, they could decide her fate. All the Elves there were high ranking officials, long on years and experience, steeped in knowledge and the patience to use it correctly. It was not often that Vez felt completely incompetent, for she had ruled over men for many centuries, answering only to the Dark Lord above her. While her time in the resistance turned this upside down, she only truly had to answer to the Blue Wizards. Now, however, she felt as a youth amongst elders who undoubtedly saw her story as a small black mark on the larger map of witnessed time.

In the company of Thranduil and Celeborn, Elrond first apologized, "Forgive me for before. That title no longer suits her as she now exists outside of Shadow."

Celeborn, seemingly unconcerned by Elrond's actions, wondered, "The resolve of her continued existence is surprising," for he had heard her story, including her release from Dol Guldur, though he did not know the outcome.

"A feat she contributes to her adopted culture. There is yet purpose for Vezely of Rhun's existence, a role she must play on the far edges of Middle Earth before she is allowed entrance into the Far West," Elrond explained still uncertain of the details of this path.

"And you are now openly associating with her?" Thranduil asked curiously, knowing that Elrond had since kept his involvement as her protector a secret.

Elrond considered this change in stance, "Her past is devastating, her future uncertain. But the bloodline we share is already marked by misfortune and misdeeds," a truth the two elders knew well, "I do believe she can rise above it."

Thranduil nodded politely, satisfied with the answer and glad to move on to another topic of conversation, though it still did not change his opinion of her with his son. No, that was different.

Legolas watched as Vez left, a part of him wishing she would stay though knowing why she did not. His attention was turned again by Lady Adele. "I am feeling a little foolish," she mused, "For I am not familiar with this woman's history."

Thalion was nearby and stepped next to Legolas, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder, desiring to re-introduce himself to Lady Adele, "Legolas is well acquainted, it seems, as he deems her friend," his appearance bringing a bright smile to her face.

"Lord Thalion," she mused, "It is lovely to again be in your presence."

"As it is wonderful to be graced by yours my lady," he said valiantly, bowing his head to her.

"Lord Thalion and I have had the opportunity to meet again at the council between my uncle and your father following the great battle," Lady Adele explained, "He has spoken rather highly of you my lord."

"How could one not speak highly of such a friend?" Thalion stated cheerfully. "I am happy to say he has only changed slightly since we last met," causing Legolas to look at him skeptically, leading Thalion to add, "What I mean is, he now has accomplished more deeds he can profess humility to, for you will not find a more modest spirit in our fair woods."

Legolas knew his friend was elaborating for the sake of their audience, expecting such a lady would prefer to hear of his humbleness rather than his virility. "Thalion often finds a need to exaggerate," he added politely.

"You have just proved my point," Thalion stated with a small smirk, before making an excuse to leave their presence as many of the Elves were slowly trickling to their quarters in the West Wing to refresh themselves after a long journey.

Legolas walked aside Lady Adele, noting that her measured gait was impeccable and polished though he couldn't help but suspect she slowed her steps in order to linger by his side a little longer. He could not deny that she was the epitome of perfection when it came to general standards of Elvish femininity - poised, well-mannered, generous with her complements, and attractive; especially her hair, which hung to the small of her back and glistened without the need of sunlight. He could understand the compliments flown about her from his father and Thalion, and their belief in her aptness for him. Nothing about her was complicated and life partnered with such a perfect being would be blissful, cheerful, and their conversation lighthearted and king. She would be the type of Elf-maiden all would expect to marry Thranduil's son, or at least the son he was before he set out for Rivendell. Thalion was wrong, for Legolas had changed, and more than he liked to admit. As her strides grew more leisurely and more distance was placed before them and the rest of the Elves, he felt incredibly uncertain how to profess that he would not court her. Bringing up the proposal was awkward to begin with, and he knew it was impolite and ill-mannered to simply shoot it down. Yet being perhaps more fluent in these manners, she would bring it up for him.

"I am certain the proposal orchestrated by your esteemed father and Lord Celeborn was not an expected one to have met after a long journey away from home," she spoke politely, "Though it has been one much considered on my part," and to better let him know her acceptance of the proposal she placed her hand under his arm, making him into unwilling escort while adding, "And I find the prospect most pleasing." Legolas swallowed the spit in his mouth uncomfortably. She then released his arm, saying, "We do not need to discuss this more right now for I am weary from travel and desire refreshment before we gather again. I look forward to having more joyous conversations with you, my Lord Legolas," she held out her hand to be farewell'd as she was introduced, and Legolas obliged, afterwards wishing his relationship with Vez would be known, simply to avoid more of this social awkwardness.

* * *

"Vez, think fast!" Pip called as she entered the kitchen hall, throwing an apple directly at her face. She caught it effortlessly with one hand. "That's the last one," he added with a smile.

"Thanks Pip," she grinned as she started to clean it by rubbing it up and down her coat sleeve, pleased they saved it for her since it was often her fruit of choice in the morning. She stated a good morning to them all and sat down next to Merry, who was about finished consuming a plate of fried eggs and potatoes, looking at his attire curiously, "You are looking quite proper today, Merry."

Merry was dressed in his Rohan robes, with his short sword attached to his side, replying proudly, "I thought l'd look proper to greet King Eomer this afternoon, seeing as I am a squire of Rohan."

"Indeed," Vez smiled warmly, realizing she was looking forward to the arrival of these guests, and to see Eowyn again. "They will be the last to arrive," Vez added before taking a bite of her apple, "All of the Elves are in the central courtyard as we speak."

"All?" Pip asked wide-eyed getting an mischievous idea, "I'd say this calls for a little undercover observation," he looked at Merry intrigued as he sprang out of his seat to investigate, looking at Frodo to join them.

Frodo shook his head, saying endearingly as he followed the two hobbits from the kitchen hall, "They really haven't changed."

In the midst of respectfully clearing their plates from the table, Sam looked on in fatherly concern, thinking he better trail them in order to make sure they didn't get into trouble. "A good morning to ya Vez," he said apologetically in adieu, following the other hobbits out the door.

Vez chuckled to herself, realizing again how effortlessly the hobbits could turn her mood around.

* * *

Merry stood poised and proper alongside Aragorn and Faramir at the guest villa's entrance awaiting the arrival of King Eomer and his advisors; the Steward's interest in being there going beyond simple politics to matters of the heart for he would again be in the presence of the one he was courting, Lady Eowyn. Vez had also come out, standing off to the side of them, glad to see her companions in arms once more.

Eomer greeted Aragorn first, followed by Faramir and Merry, with Eowyn aside him, her hand lingering in Faramir's as the sweet smile on her face made the Steward's eyes unable to pull away. Eowyn would also greet Vez warmly, with a hug, before Eomer also held out his hand to her, as she grasped it in recognition of their mutual respect, having finally found it on the battle field.

Eomer whistled with his fingers, "_Léofara_ (Beloved-Traveller)," he called and a black mare came to his side. He took the horse's reins and respectfully handed them to Vezely."I always keep my word," Eomer stated proudly, for he had not forgotten the debt he perceived to owe her for saving his life during the battle. "I figured she is your color." Vez was beside herself, her eyes wavering in disbelief on his as her hand slowly took the reins of the horse. "May she serve you well on your journey back to Rhun."

"I am honored," were the only words that could escape Vez's mouth at that moment, as her gaze turned upon the black horse she held before her. She placed her hand on the horse's forehead, stroking down the bridge of its nose and speaking to her in Elvish, to which the horse responded kindly, her ears perking up and eyes going straight to hers.

Eowyn then prodded her with a grin, "Go on," she said while gently pushing her to the horse's side, "Ride her."

Vez jumped upon the horse's back, patting her neck before kicking her sides gently to walk her around the streets outside, desiring to race her out of the city though knowing the horse deserved rest after a long day of travel. It was inevitable for her mind to reminisce about Gizik, her trusted companion who journeyed with her across Rhun, and then to all the horses that came before her. She could count lifetimes in horses, she thought, with each steed she was a different version of herself, and today, as she sat perched atop a horse gifted to her by the king of Rohan, she was the farthest from who she was when she slayed Rohan's first king, Eorl, at the Battle of the Wold.

* * *

Legolas knocked lightly on Vezely's door, checking down the hallway as he did, weary of having been followed there. He had a short respite from meeting with the other Elves before the evening's gala where all ambassadors would feast in the great hall. Legolas had the truthful excuse of returning to his room to change, though he also planned during that interlude to spend some alone time with Vez.

Vezely had just finished her bath when the knock came, her hair still wet and her body comfortably cloaked in a blue silk robe. She had not expected him, thinking he'd be unable to sneak away for the whole day. She noted his eyes checking down the hallway before he stepped inside her room; obviously concerned of this clandestine meeting going noticed.

Closing the door behind her and then leaning her back against it, she grinned, "We are sneaking around now."

Legolas laughed slightly, watching her walked towards him, "It was not my idea to do so," he replied holding his hand out to her.

"It is better this way," she said apologetically taking his hand, but finding some optimism, "And we are still managing to spend time together."

"Though I should be getting dressed right now," he remarked while strangely noting her hand lacked the delicacy of Lady Adele's; instead, it was similar to his in regards to having calluses in certain areas due to heavy weapon use.

"Ah, you must look your best for that fair lady who will be dotingly by your side," Vez mocked, making him believe she knew his mind had wandered there, adding truthfully a moment later, "She is very pretty. With long hair, like you prefer."

Legolas narrowed his eyes, for she had assumed his preference in long hair before, though he never admitted forthrightly to it. Deciding to play her little game, he replied smugly, "She is beautiful. The epitome of perfection." Vez widened her eyes, suspicious of where he was going with these statements of glorification, "And I would be fool not to marry her." He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her into him.

"A complete fool," Vez replied bluntly, keeping her hands by her sides, not desiring to reciprocate his embrace for simple matter of not liking his words even if she suspected he was teasing.

"Then that is exactly what I am," he stated with conviction.

_And you're my fool_, Vez desired to say possessively but held her tongue; unwilling to admit she was feeling the bitter pangs of jealously. The thought of this fair elf-maiden latched by his side tonight as all his kindred believed the two were courting brought displeasure in the form of a knot in the pit of her stomach. Instead she remained mute on this subject; since it was by her prodding that they kept their relationship hidden.

She brought her hands to the sides of his face, framing it in admiration for all he was to her, as he slid his hands from the small of her back to her shoulder blades, beckoning her closer. It took mere seconds for their lips to meet. Legolas felt a deep need to show his affection after being emotionally divided from her all day and with further realization that their time together would soon be at an end, he felt he had not kissed her enough. Vez needed this as well, and for him to initiate it. Too often she felt that she mischievously overreached their courting barriers simply to have what she felt was an important and desirable component of a relationship; a physical one.

Yet in the middle of this display of mutual affection, a knock sounded on Vezely's door, breaking them apart as they stared bewildered at each other. Vez hurriedly shewed Legolas into the side room, pressing her index finger to her lips and then to his as a means to communicate to stay there while she dispatched whoever it was; she did not want anyone taking this short amount of time they had alone together away from them.

Outside her door stood King Thranduil, waiting impatiently and displeased having to do so, since he knew his assumptions of his son's whereabouts would pan out correctly...

* * *

**A/N**:**_ Quite a few mini-vignettes in this one (but hopefully not confusing). Now with everyone in Minas Tirith, the plot will get moving! I promise. And thank you for all your reviews! I take everything into consideration as I write._**


	35. Weapons and Wine Don't Mix

**Chapter 35 - Weapons and Wine Don't Mix**

"My lord," Vez spoke politely, slightly tipping her head down to the unexpected visitor; trying to remember expected Elvish etiquette even if she would not open the door all the way. The inappropriateness of her current attire, dressed in a silk bath robe that crisscrossed over her front and tied precariously at the waste, now rang through her mind.

"My son is obviously here," Thranduil stated sternly without greeting, tilting his head slightly higher in suspicion of her apprehension to open the door any further, "I desire to speak with him."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, considering words that would make him think otherwise when Legolas quickly appeared by her side, placing a hand gently on her back, as his other encouraged her to open the door slightly further to allow his father to see him.

Legolas was not willing to let Vezely lie again on his behalf, knowing she was preparing to; he did not desire his father to hold it against her later. Legolas asked calmly, his hand remaining on the small of her back, "Are your intended words deemed so important that they cannot wait until another time?"

"Preferably not," Thranduil stated assuredly, caring little about taking his son away from her; his words drew a displeased reaction from him afterwards. Thranduil now noted Vezely's improper attire, for it was not a garment one should wear to answer the door or for that matter, to wear alone with his son in her personal chambers; though he should not have been surprised considering her background.

Vez turned her eyes to Legolas's, silently communicating that he should probably go with his father. He took the hand she had at her side, gently bringing the back of it to his lips, kissing it softly as his eyes wavered on hers while he stepped away. He did not release her hand immediately until he was too far from her doorway as he moved across the hall. Internally Vez was shocked he did this in front of his father; for her, it was simply throwing salt in a wound and she would have chastised him on his father's behalf if she was not so taken back by it.

For Thranduil, this affectionate display made his son's stated devotion to Vezely of Rhun manifest. He narrowed his eyes on her contemplating the now very real affection between them as his son stepped past. Vez, whose eyes lingered longingly on Legolas's, now looked with apprehension at the king, uncertain of his thoughts; she again found these noble Elves difficult to read. She bowed her head politely once more before shutting the door, feeling awkward from the whole situation.

Legolas entered his quarters, not even holding the door open for his father who was trailing behind him, and instead of engaging him in conversation, he ignored him and went to his wardrobe. He desired to openly display his disinterest in what he had to say, so he busied himself searching for the robes he would wear to the evening's gala.

Thranduil's eyes scanned his son's quarters, part of him wondering if he would find any articles of hers in there, while noting the space was more humble and meager in size than his own. His son should be staying in the West Wing with the rest of the Elvish ambassadors, he thought. Turned away from him, his posture straight, with his hands clasped behind his back, he asked a question he had been pondering all day, "Is there reason why you have not divulged this indecent relationship with others of our kin?"

Legolas breathed in deeply, trying to settle the antagonism he had brewing before shifting his eyes from his wardrobe to his father. He immediately gauged he was uncomfortable by the way he was standing; how he clasped his hands behind his back and kept his eyes averted. "You could ask the woman who I would prefer to be in the presence of right now. It was her desire to keep our relationship hidden."

Thranduil asked skeptically, "And why would she prefer to do so? What is in hiding it for her?"

Legolas now realized his father could not perceive of Vezely having a non-corrupt purpose."She fears for my reputation," then adding a moment later, slightly scathingly, "And yours."

Thranduil scoffed, admitting, "She understands what you obviously do not."

"I do not care to be discreet about something that should not be deemed reprehensible to begin with," he lectured him. "It is her reputation which should be altered in the minds of all our kin."

His father considered his son's words, though he did not reply directly to his assertion. Instead he asked, "So I have the correct understanding that you will continue this charade, courting Lady Adele as you are courting..." he stopped, narrowing his eyes on his son, his voice growing stern, "Are you yet courting Vezely? Or have you already..."

"Father," Legolas tried to deny his discomfort as he realized what he was getting at, "Vezely and I have not consummated our marriage, but we are betrothed. I know it would be unworthy of me to marry without your blessing," a small amount of relief was apparent on Thranduil's stoic face as he shifted his stance slightly. "And I still desire your blessing," Legolas added now looking at him concerned. "I understand she is not who you would deem suitable for me, for she not Lady Adele. And Vezely would be the first to admit that she is more Easterling than Elf," a brief smile flashed across his face as he couldn't help but think endearingly about her saying so, "But these differences, as stark as they appear to your eyes or how unexpected our relationship is, they matter not to my heart."

"Her past should matter, for does it not disrupt your desired future together?" Thranduil added coolly, his manner imploring his son to reconsider.

"Her past drives her towards this future," Legolas stated bluntly, having himself come to this conclusion, "Maybe if you gave her a chance you would realize she is not unworthy. She has attributes which you may even find respectful."

Thranduil again shifted his stance, as he moved his hands in front of him, adjusting the voluminous sleeves of his silver robe. It was uncomfortable having his son lecture him. Part of him desired to speak his thoughts, saying he highly doubted he could find much to respect in the former servant of Sauron, but he held his tongue. He felt depraved for his continued unkindness towards his son; to be reunited in a time of peace and hopeful prosperity, after their long tainted homeland was finally cleared of Shadow, only to be arguing over matters which he should have little say. Breaking the silence, he stated his current position, "I cannot dictate your path, but neither am I prepared to give you my blessing." Thranduil couldn't help but stand by his conviction that his son was heading down a path of despair; as a father, he could not condone it.

Legolas narrowed his eyes on him angrily before taking his chosen robes and going to the other room to change, shutting the door behind him. Thranduil got the hint that their conversation was over and left, briefly glancing at Vezely's door before going down the hall. _Absurd_, he thought of the affectionate display he witnessed prior. There came a depressing recognition that he did not know his son as well as he thought, because he could not process him partnered with this Elf. Lady Adele seemed perfect for him; what his son saw in Vezely of Rhun he did not know.

* * *

Vez quickly got dressed in her lighter hued garments, thinking the blacks she had been wearing recently were not appropriate for a feast welcoming ambassadors who had intentions to usher in a new era of peace for the West. Not that anything she wore would be comparable to the ambassador's attire. These folk were their people's high-borns and their garments, made by the finest tailors and of the highest quality fabrics, quite readily displayed this. As she threw her crimson scarf over her shoulders, a knock sounded at her door. _Great, another unexpected visitation,_ she thought as she hesitantly opened it.

"Gimli?" Vez stated in relieved surprise; she had not seen the dwarf since the ambassadors from Erebor arrived in Minas Tirith, which made him preoccupied as host.

"How are ya, lass?" the dwarf, who looked well-washed and tryingly-groomed, asked pleasantly. Gimli knew about the tense situation her and Legolas were having, and their decision to hide their relationship from his kin. He disliked this tactic as soon as he heard it, mainly because of the reaction they believed their partnership would garner from the other Elves.

"I'm alright," she stated stolidly, not desiring her troubles to seep through, "How is everything on your end?"

"Fine, it's fine," he said shuffling something behind his back making Vez narrow her eyes slightly in suspicion. He added, "Today I was taking my kin on the tour of the grounds and we ended up in the armory. Well, walking through there I saw something familiar," from behind his back he presented two recognizable weapons, "I might be wrong, but these sure look like yours. What did you call these things? Sass? Silos?"

"You found my sai?" Vez stated in disbelief, her mouth ajar and her eyes wide as they beheld the weapons she believed were forever out of her reach. A quivering smile marked her face as she slowly took them from the drawf's outstretched hands. She immediately brought the metal tipped hilts to her temples, feeling their familiar coolness as she closed her eyes; she felt absolutely mirthful to be holding her weapons again, as if a piece of her was returned. "Gimli, thank you," she said sincerely, her eyes serious as she brought them down in front of her. She bent down to his level and embraced him, giving a brief sturdy hug, her hands still gripping the sai's handles as she did.

The gesture made Gimli blush slightly, though the dwarf understood her reaction; imagining if he had lost his beloved axes, especially the one gifted by his father, and to have it suddenly be returned to him. "It's nothing," he said brushing off his embarrassment as she stood back up, providing him a curt nod before looking back smitten at the pair of silver weapons in her hands. Suddenly not getting a sword commissioned that morning did not bother her as much.

Gimli cleared his throat and then added cordially, "Now I am also charged with the responsibility to assure your attendance tonight. If that is, you don't mind an old dwarf as escort."

Vez smirked, wondering who set him on this task before adding, "Only if you don't mind escorting an uncouth Elf."

Gimli laughed gruffly, waiting at her door as Vez placed her sai on her bed; part of her desiring to bring them with her but she knew weapons were not an appropriate accessory. Thanks to Gimli, she felt slightly more relaxed about the evening's event, realizing she was not without friends who no longer judged her based on her past.

* * *

The white marbled hall was already brimming with ambassadors when Vez entered aside Gimli, their ears hit with the sounds of conversation and soft music playing. It was a formal affair; even the dwarves looked prim in their best attire and beard embellishments. However, it was undeniable that the Elves stood out with their tall, graceful forms, in their voluminous, regal robes, their long shiny hair, and gold and silver circlets. It was encouraging to see some mingling between the different races already taking place: Lord Elrond and some other Elves aside the hobbits and Aragorn, the men of Dale and dwarves of Erebor in discussion with Eomer and his ambassadors from Rohan. This era of peace depended on conviviality.

Soon filled wine glasses found their way to people's hands as servers swept through the esteemed guests with their silver serving trays. Aragorn with Faramir by his side addressed the crowd from the front of the hall, welcoming all to the White City and desiring for them to enjoy the evening's gathering as a start to celebrating this new era. The toast set the night's tone to one in favor of light conversation and merrymaking rather than the business of ruling their respective realms; that was to be saved for the upcoming council meetings.

Vez was introduced by Gimli to the dwarves from Erebor, including his father, Gloin, who stood as an older splitting image of his son. "This is the dark elf witch of the Balchoth?" Gloin asked in sudden recognition while meeting her, making Vez think this moniker must be the one that traveled through dwarven halls since it was what Gimli called her on the edge of Fangorn when first they met.

"Hmm, she goes by Vez," Gimli stated a bit sternly on her behalf.

"That title is not so offensive, actually," saying amused while placing a hand on Gimli's shoulder; grateful it wasn't "the bitch of Rhun" or some other less savory title that existed and passed through her ears. "It is nice to meet you, Master Gloin," she said placing her fist on her chest and bowing in Easterling greeting, adding, "And if you can wield an axe half as good as your son here, then it is an honor."

The rarity of an elf complementing a dwarf was one thing, but an Elf honoring an axe wielder was another. As Vez made her brief greetings to all of them, Gloin stated quietly to his son, "I like that pointy eared one."

Eowyn also greeted the dwarves before cornering Vez to ask her something privately, "Is there reason why you do not stand beside Legolas and instead that Elf-woman appears rather closely by his side?"

Vez's eyes moved furtively over to where Legolas stood aside several of his kin, Thalion amongst them. Lady Adele stood perfectly poised right next to him, a doting smile plastered across her oval face as her bright eyes looked upon the prince affectionately as he spoke. "_That_ is the woman his father would prefer he'd marry," Vez stated narrowing her eyes, not hiding her annoyance. "We are keeping our relationship discreet, as to not cause contempt from his kin."

Eowyn was confused by this, but before asking a follow up question Faramir appeared by her side, turning her attention and instantly igniting a smile on her face. Faramir had intended since the start of the event to steal Eowyn away from anyone who happened to be near her. That it ended up being Vez was simply a coincidence. The Steward greeted her cordially, "Lady Vez," as he internally reveled in the fact that she held contempt for that title.

"Steward," Vez replied back with a curt nod and unimpressed look on her face. She knew Faramir and her would maintain their dislike for one another, but she hoped for Eowyn's sake not to openly display any of that contempt near her. "I will leave you two alone," she said pleasantly to Eowyn, though uncertain where she would go next.

In that brief interval, her eyes again glanced over at the group of Elves Legolas engaged with, only to witness Lady Adele's dainty hand flutter up to briefly touch Legolas's forearm, as she politely chuckled at something that was said. Vez turned her narrowed eyes away, instinctively downing the glass of wine in her hand, thinking it was probably a good idea she left her newly returned weapons in her quarters. She then grabbed a second glass of wine from one of the servers who passed her by.

"Lord Elrond," Vez kept the glass from her lips, tilting her head down in recognition of the esteemed Elf who unexpectedly came up beside her as she turned around.

"I would very much like it if you joined me, for we have had little opportunity to get to know each other," he stated pleasantly, bringing a hand around her shoulder and leading her by his side.

"I would like that," Vez replied warmly, though surprised to be asked, "I believe what we know of each other comes from the mouths of others."

"That is the case, isn't it?" he agreed. "Though I've realized you have your father's temperament."

"My father?" Vez confirmed, thinking he was joking, "From what I remember he was quiet and kind spoken. A fisherman, not a warrior." Her father Elured never took up the sword even when other Elves were called upon to fight; he preferred to live a life of peace and obscurity in the northern forests of Mirkwood alongside the Silvan clans.

Elrond smirked, adding what he meant, "Reserved he was but he also had an uncanny ability to turn others' ideas on their head." To Elrond, Vez again proved this trait in response to Celeborn that morning, showing she had a unique way of looking at the world; something he noted of her father the first they met. As Vez pondered what he meant by this she also realized he was leading her over to where she did not expect - to the company of other Elves, Lord Celeborn and King Thranduil among them.

"You have already met King Thranduil, I presume. And Lord Celeborn earlier today," he introduced them.

Vezely nodded politely, noting a brief glare of disdain in Thranduil's eyes as she did.

"Apologies for an improper introduction earlier," Celeborn stated, knowing he was remiss in his manners.

"None needed," Vez replied, keeping her cool demeanor, "I am an unexpected guest."

"Indeed, but a guest who I heard fought bravely for the Free People of Middle Earth," Celeborn added politely, his eyes centered on hers, interested in how she would respond to mild praise.

"I was just a soldier doing what was expected of me," Vez remarked humbly, trying to ignore the mention of _Free People_, a title the West often used for themselves and one she felt demeaned the East to a land of slaves.

Her humility surprised Celeborn, for she seemed less humble in the courtyard, prompting him to ask, "This morning you spoke of the greatness of deeds I deemed terrible. Tell me what you meant by this."

Elrond shifted his stance, thinking troubling thoughts of entering this conversation, "Perhaps we should not question Vezely on her past," he stated cautiously.

"Such a topic need not be cordoned off. I would be glad to explain my meaning," Vez added respectfully, her eyes yet engaged with Celeborn's; she could tell she interested him. She suspected these noble elders could probably spend days or weeks waxing philosophical on what they considered paradoxes. Elrond furled his brow contemplatively; having desired to ingratiate her with the Elven leaders rather than create disdain. Vez, however, quite enjoyed discussing Rhunic differences as she herself continued to understand them. She smirked slightly before beginning, "Leaders in Rhun are not leaders because of their bloodline. They are leaders because they have earned the respect needed to sustain their title. But I have realized respect is conceptualized differently in Rhun. To respect ones leader means you would not dare challenge their authority. It is fealty spun with fear. Sauron understood this. That is why he had me raised by the Balchoth, one of the most ruthless clans Rhun has ever known. And I became commander of the Easterling Coalition not because Sauron deemed it so, but because I earned the respect needed to obtain such a position. And thus, deeds deemed terrible are allotted greatness by those who would follow you."

Celeborn contemplated this strange understanding of respect and the inverse leadership system, "It is known that fear is a prized weapon of Easterling warfare, though I had not known it helped dictate leadership."

Desiring to prod her further than Celeborn perhaps would, Thranduil took the opportunity to ask, "And what deeds gained you this respect?" Vez's eyes shifted to the king, surprised he engaged her in conversation since she expected he'd be disinterested in what she had to say. "Is it the killing of innocents?" Thranduil added calmly, as if asking a simple question. "How many lives did you build your reputation of fear on?"

Vez believed he knew quite well her dark deeds but desired to hear of them from her own mouth. Perhaps, she thought, he was seeking confirmation on how unsuitable she was for his son.

Elrond added slightly uncomfortable, "You do not need to answer that."

"It's alright," she stated calmly her eyes seeping no emotion as they lingered on his. She questioned back, "Do you desire to know how many innocents died by my own sword or by my orders? The truth is I do not submit these numbers to memory. If I did, I believe it would suggest I was either boasting or deploring my actions. I did neither. Now, if you were to ask how many of my men I sent to their deaths, I could tell you that exact number. You are all great leaders who have led your people to war. Did you keep count of the number of enemies who fell beneath your feet?"

"So innocents are considered enemies?" Thranduil queried.

Vez sidestepped a direct response, asking instead, "If destroying one village prevented a greater regional war from breaking out, would it not present itself a preferable option?"

"There will always be other options," Thranduil stated coolly.

She smirked, noting that Thranduil sounded just like his son, though her amusement in this was perhaps taken as her being smug since she now noted more contempt arise in his demeanor.

"Perhaps our viewpoint is one taken out of inexperience, for we have not been faced with making such decisions," Elrond intervened calmly.

Vez removed her eyes from Thranduil's glare, adding politely, "I must apologize for speaking too liberally of my charge under Sauron. Do not think I condone killing children, merely that I did not barbarically reign death and destruction without reason, even if such reasoning does not match Western morals. I often believe that is a fundamental misunderstanding the West has of Rhun; that we are all uncivilized and that explains why we submitted to Sauron. Sauron was respected by many, but the truth is the fall of Rhun was neither quick nor without considerable resistance."

"A resistance you know well of having recently fought for it," Elrond added, trying to turn the direction of the conversation back to one when Vezely was not under Sauron's rule. Vez shrugged slightly, thinking she also knew of the resistance when her armies were crushing it prior her imprisonment. "I think this continued misunderstanding necessitates more lines of communication to be opened between Rhun and the West," Elrond stated diplomatically, "For we were too long remiss of Sauron's resurgence."

"If men deem it so," Vez replied in recognition of Aragorn joining them; the soon-to-be crowned king greeting her by her shorthand name "Vez," after he greeted others in the group.

Aragorn appeared interested in discussing some private matters with Elrond and Lord Celeborn turning them away for a moment, allowing Vez a chance to say to Thranduil discreetly, "I would like to continue this conversation and another if you deem it worthy," her tone sincere, hoping to show she desired discussing with him her relationship with his son.

Thranduil stared at her sternly, exuding a demeanor of disinterest in further engagement, though for the sake of his son he considered it as she politely bowed her head and left. Vezely headed to grab another glass of wine.

* * *

"I would very much like to meet your friend," Lady Adele stated cheerfully to Legolas, having noted the strange Elf-woman leaving the meeting with the three Elven leaders. "You should call her over here and introduce us."

Legolas tried to hide his discomfort in being asked to do so; thinking nothing good could come of this interaction. Thalion immediately noted his friend's hesitation, making him believe it was his presence which made Legolas hesitant. Legolas had apologized to him earlier for having forgotten about the situation involving his brother's death in Mirkwood at the hands of Vezely's soldiers 500 years ago. Hoping not to be the one who made his friend uncomfortable or forbid him from answering Lady Adele's request, Thalion stated encouragingly, "I think that would be most interesting. I will go invite her myself."

The tall, brown haired Elf quickly sauntered off, his moss green robes swaying behind him as he trekked down the Easterling Elf, intent on being a good friend even if he did not care for the woman he was inviting.

Vez had desired a break from Elves when Thalion stepped in her path, "Lady Vezely," he stated with feigned kindness, "I hope you are well this evening."

"Well enough," she stated bluntly, as she narrowed her eyes showing suspicion of his purpose; she never trusted individuals with overly cheerful personalities. They always seemed to be hiding something, she thought.

Oblivious to her overt displeasure over his presence, Thalion remained courteous, "Would you be so kind to accompany me so I can make your introduction to the lovely Lady Adele?"

Vez almost laughed at the manner in which Thalion invited her, as if she should be honored to meet Thranduil's perfect daughter-in-law. While preferring to continue the other way she realized it would be remiss to decline, so she added unenthusiastically, "Why not?"

Thalion held his arm out for her to be escorted, but she ignored it and walked on. She would go, but not in any proper way. Thalion shook his head, trying to ignore her brutish manner.

Legolas had not expected for Lady Adele to be attached to his side the entire evening, making him obligated to introduce her to other members of the fellowship and ambassadors. While not specifically stating their relationship to each other, those without former knowledge of him and Vezely would have deduced the two Elves were courting. Legolas felt incredibly inappropriate and awkward in the situation. Luckily for Legolas's sake, Thalion had not lingered too far; the Woodland Elf also enjoyed the opportunity to be introduced to others by his now esteemed friend. Legolas took note of Vezely's prior interaction with his father, and while not knowing the content of that conversation, he could not imagine it being pleasant. He now felt ashamed to be putting her through another spate of discomfort.

As Vez approached the couple, her eyes on Legolas's, she instantly read his apology, making her assume correctly it was not his idea to have her join them. Her eyes then shifted to Lady Adele's, who waited patiently for Thalion to introduce them. Before Thalion stated Lady Adele's name and proper titles, he introduced her simply as "Lady Vezely of Rhun," sufficient enough he thought.

Lady Adele bowed her head in greeting, "It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Vezely, friend of the esteemed fellowship."

"Ambassador," Vez greeted the angelic being, not desiring to nod. While there were several Elf-women in attendance that evening, ambassadors from the three respective realms, Lady Adele seemed to possess a heightened beauty and grace, and by her mannerisms, this angelic being knew it.

"Please tell me Lady Vezely, when did you first meet the nine?" She asked with a smile, then looking to Legolas for confirmation, "For you were not with them when they briefly passed through Lothlorien and were tended to by my kin."

"We met in Rohan, a few weeks later," Legolas replied briefly.

"Though we have both encountered Lady Vezely before," Thalion added, having desired to go into impolite territory since discovering her presence and now being slightly put-off by her impoliteness, "In Mirkwood five centuries past."

"I do not recall meeting you," Vez replied bluntly, her eyes narrowed on Thalion's as she contemplated whether she crossed paths with him during her short stay.

"No, we did not meet specifically," he stated, "Though you met my brother."

Vez's eyes shifted momentarily to Legolas, confused of his friend's meaning, but Legolas's eyes were centered on Thalion. She could sense a similar discomfort brewing in him as when Thalion mentioned the death of his brother to Vezely the day before at the entrance of his room.

"My brother died the day you and your troops entered our forests," he explained solidly, turning Vezely's eyes back to him.

"If that is the case," Vez maintained her cool composure, not sure what the Elf desired from her, "Then my condolences for the grief this confrontation caused you."

Thalion wondered, noting some insincerity to her words, "I'm curious, for someone with your qualities, do you truly comprehend the grief of losing a loved one and the insatiable desire one will always have to make it right?"

"Thalion," Legolas intervened defensively, "Vezely lost her parents to Orcs at the age of six. She understands grief."

Vezely kept emotionless, trying to not let any resentment seep through for his presumptions of her "qualities." But this reaction did little to ease Thalion's distress; it made him more determined for her to understand his meaning, prompting him to ask her, "And did you make that right?"

Vez laughed accidentally; a dark laugh as she looked away from him annoyed. Her mistrust of cheerful personalities rang true once more, she thought. The Elf had been hiding his contempt for her behind his smile; a contempt he held since the loss of his brother. "I never did, nor did I care to," she answered bluntly, "But do not think I misunderstand your grief or desires for I learned them quite early," she explained, "When I was thirteen, a raiding party invaded the borders of our territory. Among the causalities was my cousin, Shahna, who was the same age as I. I had spent every day with that girl since I was given over to my clan and she would be the closest I ever had to a sister. When the leader of the raid was brought before us, to die for his crimes against our people, my father handed me the knife, telling me to slit the man's throat and take my journey into adulthood," she slowly traced a line under her jaw with her index finger, her eyes settling briefly on Lady Adele's disturbed expression before looking back to Thalion's wide eyes, "The Balchoth believe you are not truly an adult until you have killed." While they may have expected her to say she declined the deed, instead she added darkly, "My father said I cut the man's throat so deep I should have just taken his head off." Thalion swallowed what spit he had in his mouth, appalled to think of such a task. Her voice then switched to one of contemplation, "But no matter what momentary joy it brought me to take that man's life, it could not right the wrong of her death. It did not bring her back. Tell me Thalion, do you now desire to make it right? Shall I place a dagger in your hand and tell you to slit my throat?"

Thalion's eyes wavered on hers, for he realized how he was unable to relate to such a story. He breathed in through his nostrils and looked away from her, displeased that he could not find the right words to respond. He honestly did not know what to expect from stating this past truth to her, only that he felt he owed it to his brother.

Vezely added concerned, "Rejoice in the fact that you will one day meet your brother in Valinor, for I will never see Shahna again," her eyes returned to Legolas's who held only concern for her, but she could only exchange a distanced stare, as the emotions of the past overwhelmed her. Realizing this, she added stoically, "I think I have overstayed my introduction. Lady Adele, it was nice to make your acquaintance," and then tilting her head down, keeping her eyes averted from Legolas's, she addressed him properly, "My lord." She would turn away and head towards the exit, with Legolas's eyes following.

"Excuse me for a moment," Legolas stated politely; he had to go after her.

She did not look at him when he grabbed her wrist, making her turn towards him. "Apologies, I should not be here. I am only inviting trouble," she spoke quickly and quietly.

"It is my fault," he replied calmly, noting she sounded ashamed in her actions, "I should have warned you about Thalion."

She smiled slightly, removing her arm from his grasp, realizing it was still there, "You are not upset with me?"

"No," he smiled slightly in realization that her worries were such, "You gave them quite an uncomfortable visual, though not an unworthy understanding of your perspective."

She finally looked at him, realizing she needed to hear this, but the concern in her eyes was still apparent, "I should still go. I have had too much wine, and am less willing to keep my mouth shut."

"Stay...by my side," he said hopeful, placing a hand on her wrist again, though desiring to take her by the hand instead.

Her eyes glanced passed him, noting now that Lady Adele was glancing their way, leading her to remark uncomfortably, "Legolas, we shouldn't."

He slowly let go of her wrist, realizing disheartened that he must do as they planned. "Until later," he exchanged regret in his eyes before she left; even if he remained grateful knowing they would spend the evening together.

Regardless of the company he found himself in, Thranduil had not been without acknowledgment of his son's whereabouts that evening, or Vezely's for that matter. As the two parted their separate ways, he left his current conversation and followed her out the exit; intent on having a conversation with his son's would-be-wife.

* * *

**_ A/N: Thank you for the submissions on Tumblr [vezely . tumblr . com]. There's more great artwork up so check it out when you have time, especially Vez's coronation gown. Dress 2 and 3 proved so popular in the poll that Deviant artist lika-143 combined them into one stunning outfit. I think it looks fab!_**

**_And your reviews always bring me so much amusement and encouragement, so thank you thank you thank you! _**


	36. Fear and Hope

**Chapter 36 - Fear and Hope**

Vezely left the hall frustrated with herself, feeling she had led her mouth wander hastily. As she stood momentarily on the edge of the open corridor, glancing up at the stars, she therapeutically pressed her finger tips against her temples and allowed the cool breeze to grace her warm forehead. She began thinking it was a poor decision to drink as much as she did. Her imprisonment made her lose the tolerance she had gained centuries prior. Even when she took up the drink after, diminishing the supply of the Blue Wizard's Dorwinion Wine in order to forget her unstable predicament and disgrace of falling from power, her drunken stasis was short lived. The Blue Wizard quickly weaned her off of it by locking up their wine cellar.

It had been her intention to be more reserved at this event, especially among other Elves by deferring to their opinion and not imposing her own, even if she was prodded to. She had not wanted to stir more disparaging conversation about her behavior; to cause a scene that could further impact Legolas's reputation if their partnership was ever revealed. Now she felt she only lived up to their expectations of her and her history: the corrupted Elf given a second chance, though one which appeared precarious. She shook her head, wondering why she thought she could play the reserved role to begin with. Even without the wine's influence she doubted she could have kept her mouth shut.

Thranduil stood at the end of the corridor, watching the young Elf stare upward before she turned her attention to him, having heard his robes swaying on the floor behind him. The noble Elf decided to take her up on her offer to further converse with him, though he was unsure of his desires in this. He had already come to the conclusion earlier that it was impossible to change his son's heart, yet he mistrusted her intentions.

She narrowed her eyes, surprised by his presence as he continued to walk towards her. "I would have that conversation now," he stated sternly, his eyes also narrowing on hers.

She nodded politely, adding with warning, "One which I hope is not made in contempt, for the sake of your son."

He showed recognition of a similar concern, "My son. He is what matters most to me," he said standing a meter in front of her, his eyes interrogating hers, "And there lies my concern with a relationship he deems worthy, but one which I deem detrimental."

She looked away momentarily, breathing in deeply while looking up at the stars and remarking somberly, "I have thought the same. Legolas deserves happiness, and a relationship unfettered by uncertain fate," she looked back upon Thranduil who had not expected this response; he felt he looked upon a different woman than the one he spoke to prior. She added solidly, "I do not find your disdain unwarranted. I know what I am and what I represent to Elvendom."

He was surprised by her sincerity, but it did not deter his need to question her, "And for some reason my son believes otherwise. If you know your place, why did you pursue his affections? Why did you deceive him?"

She attempted not to roll her eyes and show annoyance in his assertion of her being some sort of harlot who seduced his son. "As if your son could be so easily deceived?" she replied sternly, mildly chiding him for thinking so, "And what purpose would it serve me to enter into a partnership during this war? My charge coming West was as messenger for the resistance; to lend my sword if permitted. You prefer to think this is some form of sick revenge?"

"For the death of those in your company, for the shame of banishment, one could come to that assumption," he stated seemingly indifferent to her blanketed annoyance.

"I also killed your guards and found your banishment without merit, knowing full well Rhun would one day invade your lands," Vez replied sternly after crossing her arms, causing Thranduil to raise his eyebrows slightly, "I harbored no ill-will for you or your son after being provided aid and sent on my way." Aid Thranduil realized he now regretted providing. He did not believe her assertion and Vez immediately noted his suspicion, for his cold stare seared right through her. She then tried to explain more congenially, "It was not as if we did not struggle with our feelings. We both tried to push them aside knowing the complications, thinking they could not be real. But you cannot choose love." During her explanation, he walked a half circle around her, his hands behind his back, his head held high, his eyes averted; yet uncomfortable by the notion of love between them. "You have a wife, surely you do not think otherwise," she added.

"Do not speak of my wife," he said strongly turning to look at her, "That is not the same."

She looked away, saying irreverently, "Of course, how could someone so corrupted love another unconditionally?" Returning her eyes to his, she could gauge from his demeanor that he agreed, "That is what you believe, isn't it?"

"It is hard to think otherwise," he stated harshly, his eyes seeming to look down on her.

"Love is a sickness afflicting the weak, making them susceptible to foolishness as their own heart betrays them," she stated defiantly before smirking slightly at her own change in perspective, "I long believed this. That it was not possible to find strength through another...Did you know I was near death after the battle of Pelennor Fields, a victim of the Variag's poisoned blades?" she revealed in contemplation. Thranduil had heard recently of those afflicted by this poison, but did not know Vezely was also amongst them. "It was then I was given the choice of the _Peredhil_ (Half-Elven). The gift of man was an easy path away from this tainted life and the remorse of what I've done. I would have been given a place of honor and respect amongst the high warriors of my clan. But instead I returned, the light of the Eldar renewed, but decidedly dishonored without permission to enter Valinor. If not for your son and the hope he has given me, I would not have come back. His love has provided me the strength to believe I can be redeemed, that I should desire it."

Appearing unmoved by her plight in making such a decision, he added his main concern, "And now my son's fate is tied to yours."

"That is why I will return to Rhun. To do what I must to set right what I helped wrong," she stated determined.

"And if you die before doing so? The Valar will not reembody you," he added, his eyes on hers, curious of her reaction.

"I better not die then," she affirmed bluntly, narrowing her eyes on him undeterred.

He smirked slightly, mildly amused by her bravado, before returning to his stoic face. "I will hold you to that," he replied seriously.

She nodded curtly, before asking a more grave question, "But if I do not come back...do not let him linger here," revealing her main fear of returning East to war and bloodshed. Her other hope in conversing with Thanduil was to make him promise he would push his son to leave for Valinor if worse came to worse and she could not return; "Make sure he sails."

Thranduil internalized her request, gaining in her weary eyes a deep-held concern for his son, and dare he thought her love for him. He nodded his head down slowly, accepting to do so, his reply bringing a deep, silent breath from her before she looked away once more. He suddenly felt sullied for his prior assumptions of her intentions in this relationship; for he indeed thought she could not harbor true feelings, that she was incapable of caring for another more than herself. It was not what he expected; she was not what he expected. Rather than say anymore he decided to return to the gala.

Halfway down the corridor, he stopped briefly and turned his head to the side, speaking as if chiding a small child, "It is considered improper to leave a celebration early."

She smirked at his random assertion, responding assuredly, "I have never been considered proper."

He narrowed his eyes showing annoyance in her response before continuing his way, hoping this short time spent away from the event went unnoticed.

* * *

Legolas watched regretfully as Vezely left the grand hall, wishing he could also leave instead of returning to the side of Lady Adele and Thalion, who he was not pleased with. He turned around to see both of them staring curiously at him, for they had witnessed this odd interaction between the two Elves from afar. He blanched his face of all emotion as he walked back to them.

Lady Adele greeted him kindly, "I hold pity for such a person. For now I understand why she is called_ Nwalmaer_."

Thalion replied unmoved, with his own conviction, "You should not concern yourself my lady, she does not warrant it."

Legolas looked at his friend, saying to him harshly, "Vezely would agree with you, Thalion, for she does not want your pity," he then looked sternly at Lady Adele, "Nor does that title suit her. Vezely is a warrior who fought and almost died in this war, she deserves your respect, not your admonishment for deeds long past."

Thalion defended himself, "My friend, my intentions were simply..."

"Malicious," Legolas finished his sentence.

Thalion felt slightly ashamed to have a trusted friend say so, "It is true I do not regard her in such high esteem as you, and I had not known the true extent of your friendship which you have now revealed. I will try to respect it from here on out."

"It would be appreciated," Legolas replied grateful for his understanding.

Lady Adele added pleasantly, "It is always better for friends not to fight over other relations. I am sure Vezely also holds Lord Legolas in high esteem and will find it in herself to also accord you, Lord Thalion, similar respect," she looked upon Legolas kindly, "I have heard battles forge friendships, and I can see it in this case. But even so, it reflects highly on your character my lord."

Legolas felt uncomfortable by this compliment, realizing they viewed his friendship with Vezely as first and foremost a charitable expression of his character, but not one she would easily garner from others. He did not respond, however, for fear of having gone too far in chastising them. Lady Adele then continued the conversation onto another topic, during which Legolas noted his father returning, instantly connecting in his mind from where and thus he excused himself from their presence once more.

"Father," Legolas walked beside him, saying discreetly, "Should I be concerned?"

Thranduil had still been contemplating his prior exchange with Vezely, processing the nature of his son's relationship with her. "No," he stated bluntly, quickly adding, "But now is not the time to discuss this," providing an easy way out of the conversation. Before Legolas could respond, both father and son acknowledged Vezely also returning through the hall's doorway; their double stares not going unnoticed by her. Her eyes first centered on Legolas's, to whom she provided a small, but caring smile, before looking to the king, the smile erased as she bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment of their prior civility. He mirrored her reaction, somewhat pleased she took his advice about being proper and returning to the celebration.

Legolas looked again at his father, utterly confused by this exchange between them. As his father's eyes returned to his son's, he placed a hand around his shoulders, saying calmly, "Let us put our disagreement aside for right now, and enjoy the rest of the evening," as he led his son in the opposite direction of Vezely.

Legolas quickly grew suspicion of this tactic to not converse with him, confirming, "You understand better now," causing his father to breathe in deeply instead of responding, "She is not what you expected."

Irritated by his correct assumption, Thranduil stated firmly, "And still not what I expect for you."

"It does not matter, father," he replied with lightened voice and uplifted heart, taking slight pleasure knowing that his father was uncomfortable by these realizations, "I have found happiness in another, something you desired for me since youth. Find contentment in that."

Thranduil did not reply as they rejoined a diverse group of ambassadors, removing his arm from around his son before engaging in conversation.

Vez would stop aside Eowyn, placing a hand on her shoulder, saying with a proud smile, "My fellow woman warrior."

Eowyn grinned back at her, secretly enjoying having gained such a title on the battlefield, responding joyfully, "I have been hoping to talk to you again all evening..."

They walked through the hall taking slow steps while linked side by side by their arms; drowning out the conversations around them. Neither of them were ambassadors, thus their desired solitude from the rest of the guests could be deemed less disrespectful, but not entirely unnoticeable. While their female presence amongst a room of many men was one factor, another was their newly revealed identities - all knew of the infamous Elf of Rhun and the brave shield maiden of Rohan, fated slayer of the Witch King of Angmar.

"...It has been smoother than expected," Eowyn explained of her time back in Rohan, and Eomer's transition to kingship, "We have been oppressed for so long that all are ready to move forward."

"And yourself?" Vez asked warmly, for Eowyn had not spoken about her own transition.

"I am well," she said assuredly, despite the grief experienced in the last few weeks; admittedly having to consol the families of those who lost loved ones in the war was taxing on her. "I am optimistic about the future," she added while her eyes glanced over at Faramir, who was in conversation with her brother.

"I see," Vez queried, following her eyes destination, "So you will make your home in Ithilien?"

"In due time," Eowyn replied slightly embarrassed by her open feelings, "And I have heard Legolas has agreed to tend the forests back to their former vibrancy, along with some of his kin. I had hoped you would be among them."

Vez smiled slightly, hiding her sorrow for this not being so, "I do not know how long I will be in Rhun, or what awaits me there. But perhaps when I return..."

"As long as you return before my hair turns grey," Eowyn quickly chided her Elf-friend in jest.

"I will try and make it so," Vez replied though with feeble conviction; she knew she could not promise anything.

But Eowyn was satisfied with her response, leading her to another question, "And what is this about hiding your relationship? The whole of the fellowship knows, as do many others. You cannot truly keep it hidden."

Vez realized Eowyn made a good point, though she doubted those who knew would say anything. "It is better if we try," Vez responded quietly, "My position among the Elves is yet precarious. It is not what would be considered a proper relationship, and I do not want to harm Legolas's reputation needlessly."

Despite still not fully understanding Elvish viewpoints, but noting her need for discretion, she confided, "No words of it will escape from my mouth..."

* * *

As the event continued into the later stretches of the evening, the number of ambassadors present slowly dwindled, leaving to find rest in their guest chambers since all were expected to rise early for the first of the council meetings. The Elves, needing less rest than the men, were amongst the last to leave and Legolas would again eventually find himself uncomfortably in the company of Lady Adele, who stood dotingly by his side, expecting escort to her room. Despite this, Thranduil approached his son and requested his company when leaving. Being all things courteous and proper, Lady Adele did not say a word about this intrusion, and graciously allowed father and son their space as she continued to the West Wing alongside Thalion.

Legolas and his father would walk in the opposite direction of the departing Elves, towards the other side of the villa. "I have been thinking even more of your mother lately," Thanduil's voice trailed slightly, sounding slightly melancholic in remembrance of the one his heart belonged to. But he returned to his stoic demeanor, pushing his sentimentality aside, "Even more than I, she desired for you to find partnership in your youth, as many of your peers did. Saying she feared for those Elves who did not find love early, that they always met undesirable ends. I was less inclined to push you in one direction or another, desiring instead that you forge your own path and find your own happiness, whether that be partnered or not. Now I understand her fear, for you march into an uncertain fate because of it."

"And was my fate not more uncertain when joining the fellowship?" He replied strongly, hoping his father would not forget his emergence from this war. He then added concerned, "At least there is no uncertainty in love. Despite mother's fears and initial prodding, she also understood as you that love could not be forced, but found."

Thranduil breathed in deeply, finding minor solace in his son's triumphs in the war, and truth in what he spoke of his wife's beliefs. While keeping his eyes averted he added disapprovingly, "And an unlikely one to find it with."

"A truth I know," Legolas confirmed, realizing his father was not saying he hadn't found it. "But she is not what all might expect. Her past informs her, but it does not define her."

"No, she is defined by her culture," Thranduil realized this even more by their interactions tonight, "Which itself is a matter of concern."

At this moment Vez rounded the corner into their corridor; her eyes were downcast, investigating a knick in the handle of one of the sai gripped in her hands. She had left the event earlier than Legolas, returning to her room and grabbing her newly returned weapons from her bed, intent on going to the veranda to pass the time by practicing her positions before Legolas could meet her there for their clandestine time alone. Practice was not something completely warranted for her as a well-honed fighter, a weapon in her hand was as second nature, but separation from them made the rote task seem appealing and perhaps, even a means to relieve some stress.

The sight of the two Elven lords would have stopped in her tracks and turned her around if Legolas had not engaged her with an inviting voice, "Your weapons are returned," he stated with a small smile, hoping she would not be deterred from her path.

The prince's tactic did momentarily set her at ease, as she tried to forget his father was next to him as their steps brought them closer together. Still surprised by it herself, she explained, "Gimli came across them in the armory. They are a bit beat up from the last battle, but it relieves me from having to commission a sword," having flipped and observed the one's blade when she stopped in front of them; it appeared dull and in need of sharpening.

Legolas could tell this turnaround put her in better spirits. Having not forgotten his father's awkward presence, he added in explanation, "Vezely lost her possessions after the battle of Pelennor. And the healers unfortunately discarded these."

"And my sword was cleaved in two by the axe of my former second in command," she added disparagingly, still sore about it.

"I did not know that," Legolas stated in surprise of this information, not knowing details on the intensity of her last fight with her falling ill right after; for he thought she simply left the sword on the battlefield.

"Well it was not something I was proud to have happened," she shifted her stance slightly, then adding to him bluntly with a smirk, "Even if the man met his end soon after." Legolas smiled and slightly shook his head at an expected response; a smile she then returned until her eyes shifted upon his father who was again impassively observing her.

"It seems as if you need better weapons," he stated in a disapproving tone.

Trying to remain as pleasant as possible, she agreed, "Indeed, these aren't even Easterling militia grade. Taken from a Corsair, East of the Havens of Umbar."

"Taken?" Thranduil repeated with his eyes narrowed just slightly which only furthered her acknowledgement of his suspicion; he knew she meant _stolen_.

"Well, he no longer had any use for them," Vez added firmly, not willing to be shamed for taking from the dead. Thranduil continued to gaze at her. "In any case," she turned her eyes to Legolas's, thinking it would be a good time to excuse herself, "A good evening to both of you, my lords," she bowed her head down and then smiled at Legolas before pivoting and continuing in the opposite direction.

"And where are you going with weapons at this time of night?" Thranduil called to her sternly, again as if a child needing to be scolded.

"Father," Legolas quietly admonished him.

Vez stopped and turned her head, saying sarcastically with one eyebrow raised, "To murder someone," a smirk then graced her face and she flipped her sai around in her hands before continuing on her way.

Legolas contained his laughter as he watched her saunter off. Admittedly he was amused by her brazen attitude towards his father; an attitude he knew the old Elf currently deserved and one he hardly, if ever, received from others.

After they continued their stroll in silence, Thranduil asked his son, "Does she always act this way?"

"You mean uncouth and slightly irreverent?" Legolas queried, knowing exactly what his father meant, "She is of a different nature, and still young."

Thranduil had a displeased look on his face, "Your attraction confounds me," he stated bluntly.

Turning towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder, Legolas added perceptively, "Regardless, I am grateful you acknowledge our bond as true. Whatever she said to you, she changed your mind."

The optimism in his son's eyes disabled Tranduil from denying this but he would not forthright admit to it either, "But not my concern."

"I understand, and you do not need to diminish it," Legolas replied carefully, "Vezely will leave soon, and though I would follow her to the ends of this earth, I cannot. She must take her own path to redemption, and I can only promise to be there when she comes back. And she is determined to come back. History does not dictate every future. I have hope."

"Hope I will carry for you as well," the words trailed slowly from his mouth as he acquiesced to his son's decision to make her his bride; to put aside further animosity regardless of his displeasure over his choice or his fear for his future.

* * *

Instead of practicing, Vez stood near the veranda's edge trying to investigate her blades under the poor lighting of cloudy moonlight; realizing mostly by touch how beat up they got from the last battle. Variag axes weren't always the best against Corsair steel, she thought. But as soon as she noted Legolas approaching, she put down the two blades, setting them on top of the veranda's stone wall, inviting his hands to take their place. "I am so glad this day is over," she said in lieu of a common greeting, pulling him closer to her; a statement that openly displayed that the day had been stressful.

"So am I," Legolas replied smoothly, realizing her returned touch still managed to feel as the first time their hands met. "But much has been accomplished. My father now seems more accepting of our relationship. I do not know what you said, but he no longer denies the truth of our love." Vez closed her eyes and filled her lungs with the cool air, relieved to finally hear one desired outcome of their plight. "Perhaps now we need not be so discreet," he added, taking her hands and placing them around his neck, leaving them there to place his own around her waist.

"Did your father have an opinion about that?" she immediately wondered, though pleased by his initiative to hold her that way.

"We did not discuss moving forward where an official announcement would be expected," he stated, revealing another step in the Elvish betrothal ritual to her, "But I can at least provide you comfort and openly tell Lady Adele my disinterest in seeking her courtship."

"Provide me comfort?" Vez questioned his choice of words.

"Do not think I am blind to your emotions. I know her presence around me irritates you," Legolas said steadily, making her shift in uneasiness over his slight assertion of her being jealous.

"I am not irritated," she stated in poor defense, "I'm just..."

"Jealous," he added knowingly, making her narrow her eyes in slight contempt, "Even if you need not be."

She averted her eyes and sounding displeased with herself, admitted, "It is an unbecoming emotion, but she is considered perfectly suited for you and myself ill-suited, it is easy to feel insecure."

Legolas turned her face back to his, admitting as well, "A feeling I am not unaware of."

She asked confused, "What do you mean?"

Legolas now felt compelled to remove his gaze from hers, suddenly embarrassed to speak of it, "There is one man who, when in your presence, makes me uncomfortable."

Vez thought about who he meant, before asking unsure, "You do not mean Remi? ...You do," she realized, turning his face to hers showing him her surprise he could feel threatened by him. "The man's desires overstep, and he knows it. He is a divinator. Even if my heart was not yours, a general would not share her bed with one of such profession."

Legolas asked confused, "Rank matters?"

"It does when you are of high enough rank. I suppose it is not so different from Elvish hierarchies," she considered.

"We are both foolish," Legolas admitted, glad to hear any fears he had were unfounded.

"Is that not part of being newly in love? To fear losing each other before we are eternally bound in marriage?" Vez asked lightheartedly, her amused smile turning into a grin as she realized they could still have such trite worries amongst the more serious ones.

"Perhaps," he replied, a blush now forming on his pale face.

A raindrop was then felt by Legolas on his head, turning his eyes upward, as Vezely was also hit by one, also turning her gaze to the sky. "Maybe it will stop," Vez wondered aloud before the sound of thunder churned and hastened the drops from the overhead clouds.

In one fluid motion of her hand, Vez pulled her scarf over her head and grabbed her sai from the stone ledge, while her other hand remained clasped in Legolas's as they ran side by side to the covering under the corridor. Once there they would find their clothes and Legolas's hair soaked from the unforgiving downpour. Yet their spirits were mirthful, as they laughed slightly at each other's current drenched state.

Vez followed Legolas to his room, entering behind him instead of going into her own to change. "I have some extra towels we can use to dry ourselves," he said as he continued down the entryway. Wiping away the drops of water from her sai, she gently positioned them next to his quiver set which lay on the table in the entryway. As she walked into the main room, she removed her wet scarf, which saved her hair from the downpour, and placed it on the back of the wooden chair that stood aside the desk.

Legolas returned holding two folded white linen towels, and Vezely took both from him, placing them on the desk before stepping in front of him; her hands going to the bronze stylized leaf broach at his chest. She unclasped it and peeled off the sleeveless robe it decoratively kept on, removing it from his shoulders slowly and going to his side and then behind him to take it away from his body. Vezely hung the wet robe on one of the wardrobe's door hooks before going back to him, repeating the task with his long tunic's three clasps, also stylized bronze leafs. After she unclasped the third one, she looked up at his eyes, which had been curiously following her calm face, and she smiled softly as she opened his tunic, also taking it off his body and lightly running her fingertips across his bare skin as she did. After also hanging it on the wardrobe's door, she returned to him with an open towel. She placed the dry cloth around his shoulders, using the ends to remove the rain drops on his face before bringing it up to his wet hair as a hood; gently patting it to soak up some of the moisture.

Never having been undressed by another or tended to in such a loving manner was both a sensual and emotional experience for Legolas. He could imagine it being a common though intimate moment between spouses who lovingly tend to each other even if for simple reasons. But as he watched her move in silence, he felt as if he beheld a vision of their future: her as his wife, living together in a single residence. Perhaps they had spent the afternoon apart and he had returned home during an unexpected rainstorm; the travel only making the warmth of her touch and their home ever more desirable. There was a fire going, lighting the room in soft gold, the smell of Easterling spice tea filled the air, and the only sounds were the pattering of rain on the roof above them, the crackling of a fire, and...an infant, cooing.

"That's better," Vez remarked approvingly, bringing Legolas out of his dreamlike state and back to the small guestroom in Minas Tirith. The sounds of raindrops could still be heard through the open window, hitting the stone building outside and her gentle touch was still upon him. A sudden rush of emotions welled up inside of him and he placed his hands on the sides of her cheeks and brought her forehead to his, keeping his teary eyes closed as he composed himself from the intensity of what he had experienced in his vision before. She brought her hands on top of his as they remained cupped to her face; growing concerned, she asked softly, "Are you alright?"

He nodded his head before opening his now dry eyes to hers, a small, grateful smile finding its way to his face. He breathed in before reciprocating her kindness by helping her remove her short jacket and hanging it next to his rain soaked robes. He ran his hands from her shoulders down her arms, realizing the rain had soaked through to the blouse she wore underneath. He pulled out her shirt from where it was tucked in her pants, and while preparing to bring it over her head, he realized when brushing his knuckles against her, she wore nothing under it, causing him to hesitant.

"You do not have to," she said understandingly, placing her hands on his at her waist; wanting to let him know he did not need to do anything that made him uncomfortable.

But Legolas did not desire for her to stay in damp clothes nor to send her from his presence for being embarrassed, so he walked behind her before pulling her shirt from her body; lifting it over her head and off her arms. While doing this he further observed the extent of tattoos that ran down the length of her back, black ink on pale skin. The central Rhunic script, which he knew were her clan words, ran to the middle of her back, under which was a stylized sun, similar to the one etched on her ring; but his eyes did not linger. Vezely crossed her arms over her chest as he quickly enclosed her in the other linen towel, wrapping her from behind before also wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. The rain continued to fall with thunder providing an irregular beat to the consistent rhythm of water hitting stone. With the vision still playing in his mind, he held her, not desiring to let her go. Inside he was fearful of the day soon to come when he would have to say goodbye, but hopeful for a future not yet set. Noting his lingering emotions from before, Vezely would close her eyes and allow him to hold her as long as he desired it.

* * *

**A/N: Not a cliffhanger per say, but makes you curious how they might end their evening, right? Reviews/thoughts on this chapter highly appreciated. Had a tough time writing it for some reason...**


	37. The First Council

**Chapter 37 - The First Council**

The rain started to pour harder and the wind blew in through the open window, snuffing out one of the candles that sat nearby. His arms were still wrapped tightly around her, and he gently kissed her cheek softly before going to close the window and retrieve in his wardrobe one of his robes for her to wear. Holding her towel in place with one hand, Vezely used the other to retrieve and relight the extinguished candle, moving it away from the window to a small table where two others had been lit.

Legolas returned to her side, holding out by the shoulder seams his favorite lounge robe; one of emerald green velvet. "You may wear this, if it suits you," he said courteously. Keeping her eyes on his and with a small coy smile on her face as she turned from him, she removed her towel from her body, placing it over the chair with one hand while her other slipped into the robe's sleeve. Legolas noticeably blushed even if he kept his eyes high and averted as he brought the robe up to her shoulders.

"Gratitude, _my lord_," Vezely remarked cheekily, turning her head to the side to look upon his reddened face, before his demeanor revealed he knew she was mocking him with that title; having lately been required to use it. He shook his head amused before returning to his wardrobe to retrieve another robe for himself.

Believing the privacy of the long robe would prevent her from bringing him any more embarrassment, Vezely began removing her trousers, remarking pleasantly, "I quite like the rain when you're not stuck in it," for she was enjoying the sound of the water hitting the stone building's side and tiled rooftops. Legolas would seek his own modesty by stepping into the side room to change completely out of his wet clothes. Vez added, calling to him, "It's soothing, like hot desert winds blowing across sand dunes or snow falling on burning cedars."

"Burning cedars?" Legolas asked back, curious as to the appeal of this sound, and for it to be compared to the sound of water flowing and falling over stone, since this was the first sound Elves heard when awoken and thus, they are forever drawn to it.

Vez realized the sound she referred was something quite dark. It was not simply snow falling on a campfire, but to a few past experiences burning forests or villages as she marched through them with her armies. The warmth of fire ablaze amid a chill winter's night, the sharp smell of cedar wood burning, snow falling but not hitting the ground, and what often resulted in victory, all induced a soothing quality she couldn't now quite understand. "It probably shouldn't be soothing," her voice trailed slightly as she realized a strange disconnect between her past and present; where her Elvish heritage would hold sorrow for such wanton destruction.

He returned to the room dressed in a honey colored robe, having gathered what she actually meant and noting her thoughts had been taken over. He took her damp trousers from her hands and hung them alongside the others on the wardrobe's door before returning to her, taking her hands by her side and telling her consolingly, "I know meeting more of our kin has been taxing on you, and your heart is already heavy with burdens unmeasured," referring to her soon departure for Rhun and the unknown troubles she would face, "But do not continue to feel ashamed for thinking different, for those who love you will not judge you."

She breathed in deeply, relieved and touched by his understanding of how she felt, admitting gratefully, "I needed to hear that."

He also knew she did. He took her hands and led her to one of the oversized lounge chairs, inviting her to sit and after she did he sat in the chair opposite her; but Vezely was not pleased to be apart from him so she joined him, shifting her robe slightly to sit by his side as he moved over allowing her room. Legolas openly took her in his arms, feeling silly for not having initiated exactly what he desired. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, and both listened to the rain and felt their body temperatures regulate.

The three candles would eventually snuff out and the storm would end, as is often the case with spring showers that come and go as they please, but the couple continued to rest in each other's arms both content not to think beyond their love at that moment. It is said that when Thingol first encountered Melian the Maia in the woods of Nan Elmoth, they instantly fell in love and remained entranced together for nearly two centuries. If this could have been their fate, they would have both gladly accepted it. Only the sun, streaming through the cracks of the closed window stirred them from their rest, causing them to look upon each other in the morning's restricted light. Vezely brought her hand to the side of his face, gently touching his cheek with her fingertips, tracing his jaw line before running them through his now dry hair, moving a strand behind his ear. He gently took her hand and pressed it against his chest, as he often did, holding it there.

"The rain has never brought me such joy," he said softly, causing a smile to stretch across her face as he leaned in and initiated a kiss. As their passion heightened, Vezely moved her hand under the clasp of his robe, feeling the smoothness of his chest, while Legolas's hand roamed down her back, encouraging her to adjust her position to sit in his lap. He would somehow find his hand roaming her bare thigh, which the long robe no longer covered due to her movement.

The knock at the door broke them apart from their passionate embrace, though neither desired to move to answer it; both hoped that whoever was there would leave if no sound was heard. But another knock followed, along with a voice, "Legolas, it is Thalion. I was hoping we could talk."

"I will be there in a moment, Thalion," Legolas called after exchanging a sorrowful look with his partner, immediately after aiding her in a scramble to obtain her yet damp attire from the open wardrobe and her scarf from the chair before sending her to the side room.

With his hand on the door, Legolas then noted Vezely's sai positioned next to his quiver set on the entryway side table, but being too late to hide it he decided to risk leaving it in sight, thinking his friend would not take notice or connect who they belonged to.

"Apologies for an early morning intrusion," Thalion spoke in his usual polite and upbeat manner after Legolas opened the door to him. He had been worried about the small quarrel they had at last evening's event and wanted a chance to further mend their relationship this morning. "Evening rain always brings a more glorious dawn, worth a stroll in. I was hoping you could join me, though I see you are not yet of proper attire."

"Unfortunately not," Legolas replied trying to appear relaxed, "I have been resting;" the statement not necessarily being a lie.

"As we all have after drinking enough wine last night," Thalion added with a smile, "I would be happy to wait if such a stroll suits your mood."

Legolas assumed it would be unusual for him to turn down his friend's company and especially after chastising him last night on behalf of his maltreatment of Vezely, it would be duly worrisome. So he allowed Thalion entry to wait for him, placing himself in front of the entryway table; hoping to block initial sight of the extra weapons. Thalion went and took a seat in one of his chairs, taking the book from his end table to read as Legolas moved to his wardrobe to gather the proper robes to wear for the council meeting.

"Ah," Thalion remarked in recognition of the Elvish tome his father had packed for him, "First Age Poems of Love and Lament," he added, "Somewhat appropriate."

"As my father always tries to be," Legolas replied bluntly, before moving with his clothes into the side room where Vezely was hiding.

"I escorted Lady Adele back to her quarters last night," Thalion heightened his voice so his friend could still hear him, "Her heart has settled for you my friend and I would like to believe you feel the same."

Vez, who was listening closely to the conversation from the start, raised one eyebrow at Legolas, who looked at her hopelessly as she walked over to him and mouthed silently the words, "Do you?" as she assisted him in unclasping his robe.

"I'm afraid, Thalion, I do not feel the same," Legolas raised his voice so his friend could hear; his eyes, however, were still engaged with Vez's who then appeared glad to hear him say so. After assisting him in removing his robe, she turned around with it in her hands to give him privacy to change, as Legolas added, "I will speak to her of this today, so as to not continue leading her to believe otherwise."

"My friend," Thalion started in protest, "Your heart is as stone to not open to such a beautiful light."

Vez began to snigger slightly at Thalion's words of endearment for the Elf-maiden, but she quickly put the robe she was holding over her mouth to muffle her sounds. As soon as he was dressed he embraced her from behind, wrapping his arms around her tightly, whispering in her ear, "Do not stay away from me all day," hoping to display his desire for them to gradually overcome their public separation.

Closing her eyes to soak in the feeling of his touch and his light breath against her ear, a small smile and a nod was all she could reply, and he kissed her cheek before releasing her. Both were disheartened by the breaking of another intimate moment, though the evening they had spent in each other's arms would sustain them until another came to pass.

* * *

The ambassadors had already begun to sit in their respective groups when Vezely entered the meeting hall. The wooden chairs were placed in a large expanding circle, with the inner ring reserved for the leaders or head ambassadors of their regions. Behind this circle were more chairs dispersed in rows, including chairs with tables for scribes who were poised with quills and parchment, ready to take down the proceedings to preserve for their realm's future progeny. Aragorn desired this circular construct in order to replicate the respectfulness and leveling of hierarchies he experienced at the Council of Elrond.

Of the attendees in the inner circle were King Eomer and his head advisor, an older man who also served his father Theodon, and who Vez remembered holding war council with back in Edoras . Seated next them was Aragorn and Faramir, followed by the two head ambassadors from Dale, and the main advisor from Erebor, Gimli's father, Gloin, followed by Gimli himself. Both realms had also lost their kings in the battle. The greatest presence in the hall were the Elves, most of which were dispersed in the outer circles of seats. This was in part due to their desire to show support for the coming of man, knowing it was the fading of their time, while also using Minas Tirith as a neutral meeting ground to hold their own Elvish sub-councils. King Thranduil sat next to his son, followed by Lord Celeborn from Lothlorien and Lord Elrond from Imladris. Gandalf sat by the side of Lord Elrond, the only two there from the esteemed White Council and both keepers of rings; each held in the highest regard by all who were there.

Noticing her slight uncertainty in seating arrangements, Gandalf called to her pleasantly, "Vez, why don't you sit by me," leading her to the empty chair aside him. Having been sent to Middle Earth at the beginning of the Third Age to protect it against the growing forces of evil, Gandalf believed one of his final duties before departing to Valinor was to ensure this once tainted Elf and remnant of Sauron's malice, was prepared to complete her tasks in Rhun; sensing as Lord Elrond, the role she had yet to play in this world.

Vez had not expected to be given such a seat of prominence next to him, or even to be seated in the inner circle. Just her presence at such a council felt uncanny. Her mind inevitably drifted back to her days as general of the Easterling Coalition, and the many councils she held with Sauron's chief advisors and other great leaders of Rhun. Ironic how peace, at least amongst those in attendance, was also the main agenda.

Lord Elrond greeted her pleasantly, and Vezely spoke to both him and Gandalf of the honor allotted for her to be there, to which Gandalf replied assuredly, "Peace also rests in Rhun's recovery, you should be here."

Aragorn stood from his seat and welcomed those in attendance, deeming them friends bound together in a Reunited Kingdom. He would then call for a moment of silence in remembrance of the many lost during the war; appropriately opening the first council with a reminder and precursor of what would be that morning's main topic of discussion, namely, reports of the major battles and recovery taking place in each region. These battles included the Ford of Isen and the Battle of the Hornburg in Rohan, the Battle of Dale and the Battle Under the Trees up north, the Battle of Osgiliath and Pelennor Fields in Minas Tirith, and Battle of Morannon at the Black Gates of Mordor.

The reports started chronologically in Rohan where Saruman's forces were the first insertion of Sauron's wrath on the West. King Eomer's aged ambassador provided the account, relaying the numbers slain and the forces sent to Dunharrow to then aid the Gondorians in Minas Tirith. Vez worked through the numbers in her head as the forces amassed and causalities were listed; having always enjoyed statistical assessments of war in order to find any anomalies in them; as if they might provide strategic use for later. She could not help but feel again in her former role of general as she sat there. The delivery and presentation of the information was also unsurprisingly similar to council practice in Rhun, where the presenter gave their report, allowing additional commentary from others, for example, Gandalf reported on the fall of Saruman following the Ford of Isen, followed by an open question and answer period.

Faramir then provided the full account of the battles that took place in Gondor, with the ambassador from Rohan adding his own people's casualties to the report. In the question and answer period, there was intrigue over the poison the Variag's used in the assault, many desiring to know its warfare origins, but with Faramir unable to answer many specifics. The poison known in the West only as "Mercy Sleep" had been used sparingly by Western healers to ease the passing of those fatally injured; allowing them to drift off into a peaceful slumber before assisting in shutting down their vital organs. Never had it been used outside of healing houses or for any dark purpose. This was both due to its rarity and the reluctance of healers to even house it in their medicinal cabinets, since the antidote was yet undiscovered in the West.

The concern and desire for this information came mostly from the men of Dale and dwarves of Erebor who queried whether the poison may have been used during their own battle against the Easterlings. They worried if they were negligent in letting their own people die, especially if an antidote could have been garnered from the enemy.

Gandalf, thinking Vezely may be of use in this conversation, piped in, "Perhaps the ambassador from Rhun could provide us with these details, seeing as she was the one who detected its use and provided knowledge of its antidote."

Having been content to remain silent and so far unnoticed since seated, then to suddenly have all eyes turned upon her by words of praise only to answer on a weapon she herself devised, was enough to make Vez uncomfortable; though any uneasiness could not be garnered by her cool demeanor. She confirmed, "The Easterlings did not use _Castis_, or what you call "Mercy Sleep," in the war up north. Only the Variags wielded it. This I am certain."

The ambassador from Dale narrowed his eyes in mild suspicion, desiring to have more than her stated certainty to prove it, "Is this an official understanding of the Easterling Resistance?"

"No, it is not," Vez replied solidly, desiring to keep her replies truthful, "But I can confirm that Variag's use of Castis is novel in the sense that the poison has not been used in Rhun for warfare for more than 100 years."

Vez unintentionally further peaked the ambassador's curiosity, as he proceeded to ask, "And was its war use developed by the Variags?"

"No, it was not," she replied bluntly, not willing to offer more information.

"Then can we be entirely certain it was not used up north? Tell us, for I am sure I am not the only one at this council interested in knowing, what is the origin of this use?" The ambassador's tone betrayed his minor frustration in not getting what he considered a fulfilling answer; as he and others now queried if the Variags did not begin its use in war then its secret could not have been kept in their culture.

Vezely's eyes briefly found Legolas's across the way; his eyes betraying his concern for her imminent revealing what he himself just recently discovered in the conversation she had with Remi when they journeyed outside the gates to perform the burial ritual - she began its use in war.

Vez held her head slightly higher, her demeanor void of emotion and her eyes strongly engaged on the ambassador's as she provided him the fulfilling answer he sought, "The first and only known use of Castis in battle was in the region of Sera, southeast of the Sea of Rhun; used by the elite forces of the Easterling Coalition to subdue a rebellion that had broken out. The large number of unexplained deaths after a strategically called truce in battle instilled fear in the region's inhabitants, and easily re-secured them under Sauron's submission. I am the origin of Castis's use in warfare, and Öldür, later turned into one of Sauron's undead and then leader of the Variags, was my second in command at the time. My tactic then moved with Öldür, and remained in Khand," then she reasserted firmly, "As I said, it has not been used since, and I am certain it was not used up north."

The ambassador only blinked after he finished processing the information, sitting back down as the conversation hit a wall. Vez removed her eyes from the ambassador, and glanced slowly around the circle of ambassadors, a few shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Out of anyone, Faramir was the least pleased to now hear this, as all could tell from the bitter look that stretched across his face.

Gandalf, feeling a bit daft for not foreseeing this outcome when requesting Vezely to answer, tried to mediate, "The important thing is the antidote is now known to the West and all can pledge to never use it as such again," as he looked to Vezely sternly, who could only nod politely to him, holding no ill-will for the wizard's continued _disastrous_ attempts to ingratiate her with others.

Faramir would make a motion to continue the questions, which eventually brought up the issue of the captured Variags and Harad yet being held in Minas Tirith's second level prisons. None of the other regions held prisoners of war.

The other ambassador from Dale asked politely, "What will be done with these captives?"

"They will be released," Faramir replied, "And escorted to their homeland."

"That is kind of Gondor to allow, and to provide escort on such a lengthy journey. If we can pledge assistance in this task," the ambassador started as an offering of solidarity between the reunited realms.

Faramir replied in kind, "Assistance is not needed. They will be escorted by Lady Vezely, who the prisoners have chosen as their leader."

"Chosen as their leader?" The other ambassador who asked the question regarding the poison remarked surprised.

"It is, from what I understand, customary for Easterling clans to fall under the leadership of the one who killed their leader. Lady Vezely killed the leader of the Variags at the Battle of Pelennor Fields, and requested the title, to which they accepted," Faramir explained judiciously, trying not to betray his own displeasure at this development. "Neither Lord Aragorn nor myself have any doubt in her abilities to attend to this. Nor do we want to create any ill-contempt with those men we return to Rhun, which sending them locked in chains and surrounded by guards would do," Faramir hoped to leave the worries there.

"Perhaps I am confused by this..._Easterling ritual_," the ambassador from Dale replied, his tone betraying his contempt for the enemies responsible for slaying his king and people, as well as a growing suspicion of the Easterling Elf who currently shared the inner circle, "But I will defer to your position on this operation."

Vez starred strongly at the ambassador during Faramir's explanation, intentionally trying to make him uncomfortable. The man would looked at her momentarily after his reply, before quickly averting his eyes and shifting in his seat, causing Vez to smirk slightly, mildly amused by still having such a dark influence. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Thranduil, who marked it another example of her crudeness.

The reports continued onto the northern regions. It was then that Vezely finally learned the details of the invasion of the Easterlings and how after three days of close-quarter fighter, the men of Dale and their allies, the dwarves of Erebor, were unable to hold back their forces, causing them to retreat into the Lonely Mountain. It was at the Gates of Erebor that King Brand, grandson of Bard the Bowman, and Dain Ironfoot were slain. For seven days the men and dwarves barricaded themselves inside the mountain, and only until news from the South of the defeat Sauron did the Easterling forces grow disheartened enough to allow the siege to be broken and for the allies to easily "chase" them out of Dale, or at least that was how the ambassadors described it. Without a doubt, however, if Sauron had not been defeated at the Black Gates, the Easterlings would have succeeded in taking Erebor and would have marched into Mirkwood, fighting alongside the Orc and Warg armies of Dol Guldor. The Elves would have been no match for the two forces and the north would have lost.

Only by a strange twist of fate did Vezely not lead his host into Dale, and she felt strangely disgusted when hearing, as the ambassador put it, her would-have-been men losing heart and retreating. Something with the description didn't sit well her, as Easterlings are trained to fight to the death no matter the circumstances. Thus, she grew suspicious of these deserters. As the question period commenced, she quietly raised her hand to be allowed to speak, to which Faramir offered her the floor.

Standing from her chair, she stated her suspicion firmly, while maintaining some politeness, "I must question the ambassador's description of the retreat of the Easterling legions. Please know that my request for these details is invaluable so I can return to Rhun with an idea of the dynamics taking place there." The ambassador nodded curtly before she continued. "Easterlings are trained to fight to the death, no matter the circumstances. If these men were yet under my command," she held her head slightly higher, "They would have taken Erebor, if not for Sauron then for the glory of Rhun, fearing not the impending battles to be waged. So it is difficult for me to believe all forces simply retreated."

The ambassador explained, "Well, of course there was an extended battle following the siege breaking, but a significant amount had left prior, dwindling their numbers enough for our victory."

"Would you be able to remember the crests of the forces that remained?" Vez queried.

"What do you mean by crests?" The ambassadors wondered.

"The Easterling Coalition is not one force. It is a federation of nations, bound only in solidarity under Sauron's rule with each maintaining their independence. Militia are cloaked in the same armor, carry standardized weaponry, and are clothed in the same colors, but their shields hold crests of their homeland, differentiating where they hail," Vezely explained. "I have suspicions of who these deserters may have been. If one among you has remembrance of the crests of those who remained," she looked at them hopeful.

An ambassador of Erebor raised his hand, "I may be of assistance," he said slightly uncertain, having been in charge of casualty reports.

"Vidar is in charge of record keeping," Gloin explained, "He has the keenest remembrance among us."

Vez nodded before walking behind her chair to the Rivendell scribe's station, the Elleth looking at her calm and curious as to her purpose "Can I borrow this?" she spoke while abruptly taking the quill from her hand and shifting a piece of parchment in front of her, never really intending to gain permission. Vez began to quickly sketch several crests onto it, most of which held simple geometric designs combined with compound Rhunic script. There were six crests in all, marking the six pledged territories of the Easterling Coalition, many of whom had further subdivisions or tributaries under one banner, but she could set aside those details for now. The room waited patiently as she worked, though it didn't take her long.

"If you could tell me those unfamiliar," Vezely requested after she handed Vidar the parchment. The gray haired dwarf took from his pocket a single spectacle to get a closer look.

A moment later, he gave her his conclusion, "There is one I am completely certain not having seen amongst the left shields. The others appeared but I cannot provide you exact amounts," and he pointed to the crest unrecognized - a compound character of the ancient Rhunic word meaning darkness or without light.

Vez's demeanor betrayed her disdain at the crest he pointed to, having held suspicion of the 'People of the Dark Lands' since she oversaw the negotiation of them joining of the Easterling Coalition; a task only achieved near the end of her reign as general. Forgetting herself for a moment in troubled thoughts, she spoke, "Gratitude, I have no further questions for the ambassadors," and she returned to her seat.

Aragorn, curious as to her complete dismissal of further questioning, asked, "This information provides the lead you had hoped for?"

Vez replied with slight discomfort, "It does. Thank you to the council for allowing my presence."

Aragorn looked over to Lord Elrond briefly, who exchanged a glance silently conceding they move on with the reports. The meeting concluded well past lunchtime, making the dwarves less than pleased as they exited the council room intent on going to the dining hall.

"Lady Vezely, may I have a word?" Faramir approached her after she arose from her chair, others still in ear shot of what he would say, "Why did you not relay this information on the poison's origin when we conversed on it?" For she had briefed Faramir about the poison, but notably left out its origins. Now he was displeased with looking incompetent during the council.

"It was not asked," Vez replied bluntly, his topic of choice making her further disinterested in conversing with him.

"It would have been a useful detail to have been given, and rather convenient of you to leave it out, seeing what it implicates," Faramir said betraying his irritation over her attitude.

Miffed by his insinuation, Vez repeated with a laugh, "What it implicates? As if I avoided telling you in order to keep my name out of your book of bad deeds."

Despite what he assumed was her attempt to raise his temper, Faramir tried to remain cool, remarking quietly, "A little repentance mends misunderstandings of such deeds."

"What do you want from me, Steward?" Vez was now noticeably annoyed, and she did not lower her voice as he just did, "Do you desire that I bow before you with water in my eyes, displaying remorse that my past sins brought death to your people?"

Noticeably uncomfortable by the scene she was now causing, as many had turned their eyes in their direction curious of it, Faramir stood up straighter, "If you are even capable of displaying such remorse, for I have not seen it," he stated truthfully, for he had never seen her display sorrow publically.

"Then where do I start?" she asked somewhat hastily, heightening her voice, "And should I do the same for the ambassadors of Dale and Erebor, since the Easterlings carried on battle techniques that I weaned into their regiment? And for the Elves of the Woodland Realm, whose forests burned faster via aid of an incendiary substance whose use I helped spread? And what would this accomplish, Steward?" She firmly inquired him, undeterred by those who were now staring.

Faramir shifted his stance uncomfortably, as Aragorn came up next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, asking calmly, "Is everything alright?"

Vezely did not remove her eyes from Faramir's as he spoke to him, "Just a minor misunderstanding," then adding courteously before walking away, "Gratitude for your time, Lady Vezely."

"Nothing, Steward," she called to his back a second later, "It would accomplish nothing. Words mean nothing. They are said and then dissipate into the air. I prefer to speak through my actions."

Faramir did not stall in his retreat, and Aragorn nodded politely to Vez, though with a hint of disapproval of her behavior, before leaving after him.

"You need to control your temper," Lord Elrond said with quiet concern, coming aside her.

"My temper? The man has warranted a punch in the face since we first met and yet he stands un-battered, so I think I have controlled my temper quite well," Vez replied nonchalantly, her eyes yet stern on Faramir's back as he left the hall.

Sensing both a tumultuous history between the two and Vez's cultural differences coming into play, Elrond stepped carefully, "Even so, it is better to leave without enemies."

Vez knew Elrond was providing her friendly advice, so she adjusted her behavior, saying calmly, "I do not disagree, even if it is unlikely I will ever see the man again."

He rightfully connected her statement to his prior thoughts, "I sensed distress over what was revealed today by the ambassador of Dale."

"Minor," Vez lied, then saying politely, "But the matter should not be of the West's concern."

"Perhaps not at this moment," Elrond added considering, "Though, I would very much like to hear the history of whom this unaccounted for crest belongs to. Why don't you accompany me to dinner in the West Wing tonight where such a conversation may be of interest?"

Not willing to turn down Elrond's request, Vez accepted, and afterwards Elrond left to ask questions of other ambassadors. Legolas, who had watched with heightened concern the conversation between Faramir and her, knowing too well her feelings on the man, had just left aside Lady Adele, politely asking for her company in order to discuss the breaking of their courtship.

* * *

**A/N:** **A detail heavy chapter, I know, but got to set some things up for what's to come! A big THANK YOU to all my lovely reviewers. You really have been helping me write this with your comments/thoughts.**


	38. Sage Advice

**Chapter 38 - Sage Advice**

The black mare galloped swiftly across the open grasslands, carrying its light-weight rider several leagues east of the white city walls. "Good, _Léofara_ (Beloved-Traveler)," the hooded Elf praised the young animal after slowing her to leisurely gallop, patting her neck and then halting her. Her coal lined eyes gazed eastward and as she did, a deep sadness consumed her. Putting into words her thoughts, she spoke personally to the horse, "Soon you and I will leave the lands that bore us, and if we shall ever return together I know not." She wondered how long it would take to resettle Rhun, and whether her aid in this would be enough to appease the Valar to allow her entrance into Valinor. So much uncertainty now lay before her feet and she trembled slightly, as the hope she had was unavoidably mixed with doubt.

It was the first time she had truly ridden the Rohirrim horse, finding her swiftness and assuredness befitting a king's line. She desired nothing more than to get away from Minas Tirith that afternoon, as if a momentary respite from its walls would allow her a means to forget the worries the morning had wrought; but it did nothing of the sort.

After having her sai sharpened by paying a few coin to a local smithy to use its shop's large sharpening stone and buying a small pocket stone of her own to sharpen them, she stopped briefly at the second level prisons to discuss with the Variag Captain on what she learned during the Reunited Kingdom's first council meeting - the possibility that the Easterling legions from the Dark Lands, deserters at the Battle of Dale, were returning home to start the expansion of their long desired empire. At the time, Derufin, Gondor's translator of all Rhunic languages, was not there to ease drop on her conversations. The guards, while at first hesitant of allowing her to hold private meetings, were easily persuaded; knowing well her "unstable" temperament.

After talking with the Captain, she also met with Remi, wanting to know whether the prisoners were still divided over her leadership and if a challenge was imminent. Remi was his usual self, taking pleasure in the covert task he was given because one, it allowed him an opportunity to have her company, and two, he enjoyed playing two sides because there could always be something to gain.

"...The man you already provided the head injury to," Remi spoke of the elite warrior who, even after repeatedly experiencing Vezely's fist to his face, had not been persuaded to accept her leadership.

"Yaban?" Vez spitefully spit the man's name, "I had a feeling the last of Öldür's elites would not settle. It is against their code of honor."

"He is back to full strength and has been training in the courtyard, as others have," Remi cautioned her, "None are able to beat him at hand to hand combat."

That the man would make the challenge did not surprise her for she suspected this when he first stood up to protest her. Though this was not to any gift of foresight, but to understanding the Variag's culture which stood in close proximity to the Balchoth's. It was also unsurprising that the Captain willingly acquiesced to her control, for the man was wise and knew that upon reaching the borders of Khand, he would be given, by her leave, command over those troops, and if he so desired and met no opposition, he could retain his position of power in the region. But Yaban, as one of Öldür's elite ranks, he not only had a chance in challenging her, but as the only survivor of these ranks, it would be viewed as a dishonor not to attempt retribution for his slain commander. Vez had sidestepped a full out challenge upon her first meeting with him, aided by her quickly inflicting him further injuries. But now that the man was at renewed health and according to Remi, training, it was only a matter of time before he would make another stand.

"So he may challenge me soon then?" Vez queried, an amused smirk stretched across her face, for she had not had the experience of being challenged for many ages.

"Highly likely," Remi replied gauging her interest while comfortably leaning back in his chair, "Though to have such a match on prison grounds, that _yavonka_ would not be pleased," he said, using their disrespectful pet name for Faramir.

"The Steward would not condone it," Vez corrected him as she pondered this further. "In any case," she continued assuredly, "I will address the troops on Rhun's situation tomorrow morning. And then I'll gauge Yaban's desires."

He smirked, saying pleased with future possibilities, "To see you in action, it will be as if the gods have granted me half of what I desire."

Vez narrowed her eyes, saying suspiciously, "Half?" Remi's eyes, however, let her know exactly what he meant. "Divinators are delusional, but you go well beyond that," her annoyance was obvious and she not too subtly reminded the man of his unworthy title.

"And if I forsake that title, and fall in line as one of your warriors," he inquired leaning forward from his chair and placing his hands on the table.

"And you would remain delusional," she said crossing her arms, "You will receive nothing from me but distrust and a broken nose if you so deserve it. And this current arrangement will end at the borders of Khand, where I leave you and continue on my route," she then stood up, deciding the conversation was finished.

"That blonde Elf will be accompanying us then?" he asked sarcastically, standing up as well.

"He will not," Vez replied bluntly, but not desiring to share her feelings on this matter she said no more and left the room. Remi followed her, a smirk gracing his lips as he foolishly believed he still had a chance.

* * *

Legolas escorted Lady Adele down a corridor and into an empty courtyard, desiring some privacy for the conversation they needed to have. She had slipped her hand under his arm as she kept pace poised proudly by his side, making Legolas uncomfortable but unable to do anything but allow it.

"Apologies for my inability to escort you back to your quarters last evening, my father and I had to talk," Legolas started the conversation once they reached the courtyard's central fountain.

She softly tugged his arm as she sat down on the fountain's ledge, requesting that he should sit beside her, "Apologies are unnecessary," she replied courteously with a sweet smile, "Though I do hope your father and yourself were not caught in the spring rains which graced us thereafter."

"Fortunately, we were not," he replied as he sat beside her, feeling mild discomfort with partially lying to her.

Her clear blue eyes looked upon him as she spoke calmly, "There is cycle to this season, where water necessitates growth and growth necessitates water. Dark storms aid green life, even in a city sparse of natural comforts," her eyes then turned to admire the courtyard's row of planted trees, for the greenery in the city was sparse but still beautiful.

Legolas noted her voice's crispness, so airy and light, and he imagined her ability to recite poetry was grand. "That is indeed true," he returned a friendly smile, for no Elf could not be prompted to feel joy by her great beauty in voice.

"I have been writing words lately," she replied, as if knowing his thoughts, "Of the joy of seeing a world renewed and to embark on unknown paths alongside a trusted companion," her eyes implicating this new companion she wrote of was him. "I would be willing to recite them for you my lord, if it would please you to hear my humble attempts at lyrical beauty."

Legolas averted his eyes, feeling ill in his stomach for such an offer would be considered a heady flirtation. He knew he had led her on and now must return words of rejection, "Lady Adele, I am afraid I have to decline such an offer."

Lady Adele's radiance did not fade as a quizzical look spread across her face."Do you not enjoy the recitation of poetry my lord?"

"I of course enjoy hearing such words spoken," Legolas replied politely.

"Or do you prefer song? For I have heard our Woodland kin love music and singing just as much as they love the forests they dwell in," she added hopeful that he was not simply denying her offer.

"This is true of Wood-Elves, but it is for a different matter that I must decline your offer," Legolas replied steadily, concern in his eyes for the hurt he may cause, "I will soon leave these shores to Valinor. I have heard the call of our people upon the black ships that bore me to Pelennor. My father knew this not when he discussed our courtship with Lord Celeborn and in folly he hoped to find for me joy when such joy needed not be given. I did desire to speak these truths to you upon first we met, but such matters needed to be conversed with my father, for much we had to discuss after our time asunder, and because this arrangement was made with political intent in mind. I apologize for any falseness in my steps since our first greeting and that I did not tell you that my heart is forever unavailable to give in partnership to another."

For once in her long life, Lady Adele stalled in replying, not certain what was the proper reply to such a rejection. Then she asked carefully and with hope, "Is your heart closed to nothing but the stated beauty and bliss of the shores afar? Would you not seek a companion to embark to these unknown shores with you?" Referring back to her poetry and finding revelation in her written words.

Legolas had a strong urge to reply with the truth - that his heart was open to one who would journey to those shores with him, yet he could not yet say her name or make such an announcement, not yet. "Lady Adele, you are of beauty and wisdom, the light of our people shines bright within you and the warmth of your presence felt by many, but such a companion for this journey or for this life I seek not." He then added some finality, "My father will have already spoken about this with Lord Celeborn," for last night he requested him to do so, then adding politely, "I do hope you and I can remain friends, however, especially should we meet again in the lands far west of here."

Lady Adele could tell he was not speaking all his thoughts on this, though she had no reason for suspicion or to distrust what had been said. "Friends we shall remain then," her smile calming Legolas's worries, even if there was a hint of sorrow in her eyes for the prince she had lost, though never truly had.

"We should return," he said a moment later, standing up with his eyes towards the route they had walked. He politely offered her an arm to escort her back, and she accepted it in silence. In her mind, however, she thought through her missteps and misunderstandings since first meeting him. She had not foreseen this rejection and wondered if his heart only truly longed for Western shores.

* * *

Vezely returned Léofara to the stables, finding Eowyn tending to her and her brother's horses, and she was grateful for the shield maiden's company on her walk back through the villa. They would stroll through the main courtyard, where many ambassadors had strayed during their afternoon break from council; Thalion conversing among them. The Woodland Elf immediately took note of the weapons attached to Vez's boots, for he saw the same crude knives sitting on Legolas's entryway table. But he said nothing to his friend for they were not of interest at the time. Eowyn politely greeted some of the ambassadors as they walked past, though none impeded their steps or fully halted their conversation.

Vez knew she had ruffled some feathers at that morning's council after revealing her connection to the poison which killed many at the Battle of Pelennor Fields. That and what she deemed a minor tiff with Faramir, undoubtedly reminded all of her past servitude to Sauron. While she cared not how her name was strung through the West's history books, whether as usurper of Calenardhon, slayer of Eorl the Young, originator of the Variag's poison, or as a friend of the fellowship and warrior pledged to King Theodon, she did care for the reputation of another who would call himself her partner. She again realized she could not step lightly here, for it was impossible for her muddied boots not to make a sound.

These thoughts were but one of many that filtered through her mind as she lingered in the bath, needing one after spending the afternoon riding and in order to be semi-presentable for the invitation by Lord Elrond to dine with the Elvish ambassadors. She stayed to the point that the water grew cold and a house maid mildly aggravated after checking twice to see if she was done. But she didn't want to remove herself, feeling stuck in the water. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them, gaining sight of the tattooed Rhunic characters on her upper arm, reminding her of those who had challenged her for leadership in the past. She read their names quietly aloud, speaking Öldür's name, which had yet to be permanently inked, and then saying the name, Yaban.

Vez had never considered the right to challenge leadership a brutal or savage custom. While the desire to wield power was indeed part of it, as Rhun could rightfully be called a land ruled by brute force, it was also a culture which honored the right to question leadership. Perhaps the West would find such a system anarchic, but in truth such challenges took place only during times of tremendous change and transition. A death of a beloved leader, for instance, may spark a line of worthy warriors biding for the position; as was the case after Vezely's adopted father's death and the many challengers she faced in order to prove her worth. Or if a leader was deemed unsuitable or unstable, the people may choose a challenger. Internal rebellion thus had an honorable means to conclude itself. Therefore, outright chaos and rebellion rarely occurred in these so-called savage cultures.

And once a challenge is made, the leader had no choice but to accept. To decline would not only dishonor one's self and the one who made the challenge, but your life would be forfeit. It was a death sentence and the people were required by tradition and law to fulfill it; thus challenges never went unanswered. If Yaban made his challenge, Vezely would accept and fight him to the death, with only one emerging as victor. She understood this would be viewed by her kin as a questionable act for someone seeking redemption; and it inevitably led her to wonder whether she could function within Rhunic culture and still be considered worthy of the Eldar. Yet she really had no choice and after proving her uncouthness in all other aspects, she could only hope to control its timing. She needed to avoid Yaban making the challenge while the men were still in Minas Tirith. Such a fight would not be condoned on prison grounds, and she feared the repercussions of city law if blood were to be spilled. Nor did she desire to spill anymore Rhunic blood on Western soil; for so many had died far from their homeland already. The water grew lukewarm to cold and yet she continued to hug her knees and stare at the names inked down her arm, her mind mired in this and all that lay ahead once she crossed the borders of Rhovanion. And worse, there she would be far from the one who stabilized any hope she had of being redeemed.

* * *

Legolas returned to his room after the last of the day's meetings, a bath also on his mind before the evening's dinner party. After his talk with Lady Adele, he was freed from the expectation of attending her side, letting him spend time with the other ambassadors, including Gimli. The two's surprising friendship did much to break the wall between the dwarves and Elves, and there was talk of Gimli leading some of his people to Ithilien to dwell alongside Legolas's Woodland kin in order to help rebuild.

On the way down the corridor, a house maid, knowing of the relationship between the two Elves, asked politely, "Apologies Lord Legolas, I do not mean to pry, but I ask out of concern. Is Lady Vez alright?"

"What do you mean?" he replied, worry immediately seeping in.

"She went into the bath well over two hours ago and will not remove herself. I have offered her more hot water but she refused," the maid explained, then adding dutifully, "If there is anything I can tend to for her, please do let me know..."

Another knock at the door stirred Vez from her thoughts. Thinking it was the maid again trying to move her, Vez spat in a tone worthy of a displeased general, "I said, leave me be."

"Vezely," Legolas soft voice called back, "Are you alright?"

She closed her eyes and removed her hands from her knees, bringing them to hide her face. She felt ashamed when realizing the extent to which his voice sang to her heart and calmed her, meaning that she had not been alright.

The lack of an immediate response prompted Legolas to enter, his worry for her overrunning his propriety. He would find her hunched over in the bath, hiding her face in her hands. Kneeling beside the tub, he placed a hand softly on her upper arm, prompting her to turn her head. Her eyes would first find his hand covering up some of the inked names before she looked upon him

"I am not alright," she replied with broken voice, concern marked her brow and her eyes had a hint of water welled within them. He had never heard her admit this forthrightly, for she was always sure and strong, and remained steadfast in her belief in moving forward in her redemption. He moved his hand to her cheek, prompting her to say, "I worry I'll never return to your arms, that the Valar will always forsake me..."

"Shhh," he hushed her from saying any more harmful words, his heart breaking as the tears she had held for so long finally fell down her face, "Do not let fear and self-doubt overrun the hope you have built. I know not what lies to meet you, but you are an honorable warrior who will do what is right by the men of Rhun, and the Valar will know that your heart is just." He then added assuredly, as if needing to affirm it for himself as well, "And you will return to my arms and I to yours. Fate cannot keep us apart forever."

She squeezed shut her watery eyes and nodded to accept his words, which she again found wise beyond her own. After he leaned in and kissed her forward, he said lightheartedly, "Let's get you dry. You cannot stay here all night or you might dissolve," causing her to smile as he pulled a towel from the nearby rack and opened it aside her; and she took it as she stood up and wrapped it around her body with his assistance.

After she stepped out of the tub into his arms, she repeated his words in her mind, _To do what is right by the men of Rhun, as an honorable warrior_; again finding strength from the one she loved.

* * *

They were late to the feast in the West Wing. Walking briskly from their quarters, Vez whispered to Legolas who kept pace aside her, "Maybe you should go first, I'll arrive later so as to not cause suspicion."

Legolas cared not about arriving late beside her, "We will enter together. Besides, either way will garner suspicion, and I care not at this point."

"After today's council one would think you'd care more," Vez said sardonically, and Legolas gave her a stern eye, having admonished her just before for worrying about the impression she made.

He stood less concerned; that despite her argument with Faramir, which he did think verged on crossing the line, he believed she handled herself well in the council, telling its members forthrightly her role with the poison and questioning the ambassadors about the Battle of Dale fairly and with useful effect. Since she was not invited to other council meetings, the ambassadors had no right, in his mind, to further judge her presence here, as she was a guest of the king and a friend of the fellowship and of Rohan. Of course, he knew some had grown more wary of her, and his father told him frankly that afternoon that she verged on embarrassing herself. He did not tell her this however, for she needed no further affirmation of what she already believed. But he did give her some advice, saying if she worried so much about leaving a foul impression on her kinsfolk, then perhaps she should acknowledge it. He did not use the word apologize, for he believed she should not be sorry for her cultural differences, but to show a humble awareness of the tendency for them to cause misunderstandings.

As Legolas did not mention his father's admonishment, Vezely did not mention Remi telling her of the possibility that Yaban would challenge her for leadership of the Variag troop. She dared not speak of it, for she was committed to not letting it happen while in Minas Tirith; not until she was far away from her kinsfolk and their discerning eyes. It would also be a burden Legolas's mind need not have, especially since she had revealed to him that undoubtedly Rhun would see war waged by the People of the Dark Lands. She also spoke to him about her concerns over the impression she made at the council meeting, and his sage advice was to humbly acknowledge it. Perhaps she would take his advice, she thought, as they got closer to the gathering.

The Elves had already rejoined in the West Wing's large courtyard, where long tables were set up for them to feast under the starlight. Lord Elrond would soon invite all to sit down, but he intended to wait a little longer for his invited guest to arrive.

Lord Celeborn, who stood aside him, noted his comrade's questioning gaze towards the Eastern corridor, "It would appear your dinner guest is late," he stated curiously, adding after in the same curious tone to King Thranduil, who was also nearby, "And your son is also late."

Thanduil's eyes narrowed before they shifted over towards Celeborn's, uncertain of the meaning that may lie under his desire to mention this. He had spoken earlier with Celeborn about the refusal of his son to court his niece, Lady Adele. Celeborn was not upset by this, for he did not desire to force another into partnership nor did he misunderstand Legolas's reasoning, which Thranduil said was to heed the call to sail westward. Yet Celeborn's discussion afterwards with his niece left him confused, for Lady Adele told him she perceived another reason lay behind Legolas's refusal; one deep seeded in his heart and now he wondered what it could be.

Turning into the long entry corridor, Vezely's ears picked up unfamiliar though soothing tunes coming from soft noted instruments, one with strings and possibly a flute, and she could smell the scent of rosemary and thyme, both herbs uncommon in Rhun and only experienced by her in the West. Before passing far enough to be seen at the other end, Legolas took the hand by her side and squeezed it slightly, "You will be fine," making her wonder if he could sense her anxiety as they got closer. She would remove her hand from his just before entering, both noting that Thranduil was the first to look upon them; condescendingly.

Both Vezely and Legolas went towards the three Elven lords and Vez greeted Lord Elrond, saying sincerely, "Apologies for my tardiness. I have no excuse for it."

"As am I equally apologetic," Legolas added politely, tilting his head down to show reverence to them all.

Lord Elrond was less inclined to be offended by such trivial matters, "That is quite alright. We have not yet sat down to eat, though we can do so now." And he called on all to take a seat, after which they would be served wine and food from the guest house kitchens.

Relieved of his obligation of forced courtship, Legolas without hesitation sat down next to Vezely. She was seated aside Lord Elrond, with his father and Lord Celeborn on the other side of the table. The Elf prince received a concerned stare from his father, who pondered his son's intentions this evening; he was certainly not prepared for them to make any official announcement concerning their engagement, as he realized he knew not when he'd be prepared for that.

When a glass of Dorwinion wine was poured for them, Vezely looked at Legolas and in silence the two briefly exchanged an understanding of her past consumption of it, and through her brief smile she promised him she'd not to consume it too quickly. The music, which had already sounded foreign to Vezely's ears, again garnered her attention when the harpist began to sing, causing her eyes to flick over towards her.

"Ah, a song well-loved and sung often to start a feast," Elrond said noting Vezely's interest, "Though fresh to your ears I presume."

Vez returned her gaze to him, surprising herself that the music garnered her awareness, "You presume correct. I have only recently become accustom to speaking the Elvish tongue and save for sparse memories of my mother's voice in song, know not its sound in music."

Lord Celeborn found this information curious, "Of how many years were you when taken?"

"Six," she replied politely, "And only recently have the memories from those six years returned to me. I lived most of my life without knowledge of the Elvish tongue, and knew even less of Elvish history since crossing Rhovanion, where Lord Legolas kindly offered me some tales to bide time between battles," she smiled over at Legolas showing her gratefulness and he returned a humble smile at her before she continued, "You must understand it is strange to be seated with those whose histories are a part of that lore just learned, for I am young and of a world of men who live well outside your purview."

Elrond considered her words which appeared to be thought out in advance; responding kindly, "We know you are unique to our kind for a variety of reasons, and this is certainly one of them. But it is good to be reminded of your estrangement."

"It is an attempt to apologize for my continual missteps," Vez added to be more direct. "Six years spent under the leaves of Mirkwood," her eyes then turned upon Thranduil when saying his kingdom's name, "Is not sufficient to count myself Eldar in culture."

"We shall not judge you by this," Elrond stated kindly, accepting it as an apology, and one thoroughly unexpected, "For if your mind remains open with a desire to learn and accept council, which I suspect it is," a trait all deemed as characteristically good, "Then ours also shall not be closed."

Vezely replied humbly, "Thank you," and she tilted her head down to show appreciation for his acceptance and Legolas felt incredibly proud that she initiated this conversation; and on his face, such feelings of his part in prodding it were apparent to his father and Lord Celeborn from across the table.

"And what council would one from a world outside our purview seek?" Celeborn asked her slightly skeptical, and Elrond realized he would have asked the same.

Worried she had offended him, Vezely attempted to restate what she meant, "I did not mean for that statement to offend, but I have found the West lacking in their knowledge of Rhun and its people."

"Which is by all means true," Elrond added assuredly, though Vezely's eyes remained upon Celeborn's as he seemed to stare deep inside her. "The division between East and West is as a wall of ignorance, and the reason why Sauron's reestablishment was hidden from our view for some time. And since you return to where we know not," Lord Elrond hoped to initiate the conversation he invited her for, "Perhaps you should tell us to whom this missing crest belongs, and why it causes concern in your mind. Then advice could be shared through understanding."

Vezely hesitated slightly, for the West, especially the fading Eldar, need not the concerns of Rhun, nor could they do anything about it. Yet, she also wanted to appear open to advice, for perhaps it could help her. "They are called the People of the Dark Lands," she explained steadily, "The farthest civilization settled beyond the Sea of Rhun, well past the nomadic steppes and barren wastelands to where sunlight marks only half the day as it does in the West. While one would think there a culture would fail, they have thrived. They are considered among the wealthiest commonwealths in Rhun because in the darkness grows a substance of trade that travels the farthest and continues to hold the highest demand; an opiate which numbs the mind and frees you for a time from all considered worries," she said knowingly; as often they were among the spoils of war and not always did they go unused.

"Nightspell," Elrond acknowledged its name in the common tongue, having heard of its trade, "I did not know of its specific origins."

Vez concurred, "And it appears to still be found in the dark underground of cities in the West, even though trade of other items from Rhun like spices have been halted. But besides trade, they also hold the most land, even if much of it is inhabitable. And they have a long history of unwelcome incursions into others. They are considered Easterlings, but were the last to join the Easterling Coalition. Their resistance was not due to disapproval of Sauron, on the contrary, they have long been worshippers of Melkor and were eager to follow his greatest servant. But they desired independence, to be given privilege over conquered territories in the West for their long held devotion to the Lord of the Dark." The mention of Melkor caused Legolas and his father to exchange an uncomfortable glance, for it was uncommon to nonchalantly hear the name of a foe so great and terrible. "But the five other Easterling commonwealths would not allow it, so they begrudgingly joined. And I would find that relations turned worse in recent years. The Resistance suspected they held some reserves back from the call to march to Mordor. That is why I was not surprised to find that their crest went unrecognized by the ambassador from Dale, for those there may have more readily returned home upon hearing Sauron's defeat."

"And you suspect they now expand their long-desired empire into territories scarce of protection and that you again ride to war," Elrond stated, to which Vezely nodded for that is exactly what she believed, "And this war cannot be avoided and peace sought instead?"

Vez smirked, for that would be a nobler pursuit, though she doubted attainable, "It is unlikely that their territorial desires can be dissuaded."

"If left unhindered, would not the inhabitants of these unprotected lands be spared and simply incorporated into their empire? Could you not accept some expansion to avoid bloodshed?" Thranduil queried, wondering if all were Easterlings, then such invasion would not necessarily be completely disruptive to cultural life.

Vezely disliked the implication that other Easterlings should simply allow the People of the Dark Lands dominion over their territories, but she remained courteous in response, "Easterlings are a proud people who do not bow easily, even for close kin. And while war would be avoided and the inhabitants of those territories spared, they would not be treated as equals. Perhaps above slaves if they did not resist, but at significant cost to their freedoms, especially their right to their own beliefs and rituals. Instead of worshipping ones ancestors, as my people did, they would be required to make sacrifices to Melkor. And if they would stop at the Easterling homelands, I would be surprised."

"You will aid in their protection then," Elrond added while in thought, "Which is not necessarily an ignoble endeavor," he said giving her affirmation of her charge, "But do you seek more than this?"

"How do you define more?" Vezely asked, herself now being the skeptical one.

"As a protector, you follow an honorable path. To defend those in need from those who would do harm. But if you ride to make war for your own benefit," Elrond stalled, hoping to intrigue a response.

To which Vez quickly answered, saying bluntly, "I seek no kingdom of my own."

"But you would seek leadership of an army," Elrond replied calmly, "And a return to the role you once had and a craft of..."

"Of death," Vez finished his sentence, for she knew this conversation would lead to other information revealed at that morning's council meeting. "I take no pride in the evil instruments my mind devised. They were simply means to an end I needed to fulfill."

Celeborn replied suspiciously, "But such deeds are what garners you respect and leadership in those lands." He remembered their conversation a few nights past when discussing Rhunic understandings of fear and respect. "And this fact exists whether you take pride in your foul deeds or not."

"It does. But I cannot erase what I have done or change the minds of those who deem me worthy because of it," Vez replied strongly, though becoming uncomfortable. Legolas noted this and for reassurance, he slowly moved his hand over to her under the table, placing it on top of the one she rested on her lap. His touch calmed her as she added, "But it does not mean such deeds would again be committed, for my purpose has changed."

Celeborn continued his inquisitive stare, asking her further, "But has your heart changed? Tell us, where do your desires truly lie? In war? Or in peace?"

Vez stalled in answering, finding it a strange question to be asked and by his stare she knew she could not get away with lying. "You must understand," she explained steadily, "I was raised in a culture that valorizes warfare. A common saying amongst the Balchoth is 'If there is no war, there is no life,' for we truly feel alive when in battle. My heart is yet new to knowing peace, and my experience of it fleeting as I prepare to leave," she then grasped Legolas's hand which still lay upon hers on her lap, "But know I fear its loss and will yearn for it when away. It is my heart that grounds my purpose in Rhun, and it will help guide me in my deeds as I remain true to who I am now, and to the people I seek to aid. For I have to believe I can be of Rhunic culture and yet be deemed good by those who judge our people."

Legolas was warmed by her statement and a small smile stretched across his face, as his eyes were on the table below him, for he knew she held him in her heart as he held her in his. And Celeborn, his eyes yet cold upon her, knew she did not lie, and he was satisfied, as was Lord Elrond who sensed further how far she had come from the Elf he met in the tent at Dunharrow. Thranduil's thoughts, however, were on his son, and how this admission further confirmed how his son's fate was tied to hers. So tragic their love seemed, he thought, and he felt sorrow for the future when she would depart and leave his son to waiting.

Lord Elrond replied, "I believe this is the balance you have long sought," knowing of her struggles with reconciliation of her two sides.

"I do not know if it is balanced," she replied uncertain.

He disagreed, "You cannot change your character or a love of war which appears deeply seeded. But if you remain true to your heart and it truly grounds your purpose, then your desire to strive towards peace is not in question. There is hope for you Vezely, and it is hope which never really abandoned you even after your estrangement from the West."

As Vezely, Legolas was equally grateful for Elrond's words, and he desired to tell him this when such openness of his affections was allowed. Nor did the Elf let go of her hand until dinner was served, glad he could be there to provide her support even if being dissuaded from doing so openly. For Vezely, the clandestine reassurance of her partner and the speaking of supportive words of wisdom from her elders, did much to fix her doubts.

Thranduil then added, curious of something else, "It is uncommon to hear one speak of Morgoth so freely and without trepidation," Thranduil spoke of the great foe currently lost in the void; Morgoth being the name the Eldar called Melkor. "What do you know of this fiend?"

Vezely looked at Legolas, and mentioned that he had told her of Morgoth's deception of the Elves in the First Age, and the wars he waged, to which Legolas replied he did not have time to go into great detail. She then recounted how Melkor was known by men of the East, who certainly held him in different regard. It would spark a conversation of the East's knowledge on the Valar to which Vezely also explained some paucity or differences of understandings. She would then, having been curious of First Age battles, ask Celeborn and Thranduil of their experiences in Doriath, eliciting some tales which even Legolas had not been privy to. Dinner and more wine would be consumed, but the conversation had not ceased, for the Elven lords had no shortage of stories to tell or questions to ask and answers to give.

Legolas left the event aside Vezely, needing no excuse to do so for his sleeping quarters were next to hers. His hands were clutched behind his back as he walked next to her, and hers were grasped in front, each not daring to hold hands or walk to closely in others view, but they did smile at each other exchanging their longing to do so as soon as they could. And their hands swiftly locked as they passed out of the West Wing's entry corridor, and they sauntered off to spend another evening alone; desiring to forget that their time together was now dwindling.

Elrond spoke to Thranduil after their exit, "I hold gratitude to your son for I sense his friendship was instrumental on her path. You must take pride, for he is both strong and kind of heart, and equally undeterred in showing it," for he also knew of Legolas's befriending of the dwarf, Gimli, despite their rocky offset from Rivendell. "...And I hear he is soon to depart from these lands," Elrond added pleasantly, "He will find peace there, and it is well deserved." Though in Elrond's own heart was sorrow for the daughter who could never go forth from these lands. In two days Arwen, accompanied by his twin sons Elrohir and Elladan, would arrive in Minas Tirith on route from Lothlorien, along with the one who Lord Celeborn held most dear. Despite their arrival's importance, their company's journey was unknown to the king and many others. Arwen would present herself to Aragorn at the coronation, to be held the morning after they arrived. Thus, there was another reason so many Elves were in Minas Tirith, for their joining was certainly reason to celebrate.

* * *

**A/N: One of the longest chapters I've written, but wanted to round it out. Any predictions on what's to come?**


End file.
